I found myself at the airport. At least it seemed like the airport. But there was something strange about it. I mean, I sat down at one of the restaurants and I tried to get something to eat. A pizza. But when it came to me, it had an omelet on it.
Then I was on the plane. That seemed normal enough. Yet something wasn't quite right about the flight attendant, either...
Then I was in a small, dusty Texas town. But the streets were deserted. The only sound was the wind and my own footsteps.
Where was everybody? I stuck my head in one place and received only a mute, uncomprehending stare back from this local. And what's that on the TV? Another...
omelet!
Terrified, I hurried back out onto the empty, desolate streets and seemed strangely drawn to this place, as if I should know the name... Smitty's... wait a minute, isn't that a famous barbecue place... at least I can get a good meal there...
I walked up to the front door... and then it suddenly hit me in all its awful irony... I was in Lockhart, Texas, one of the greatest barbecue capitols in the world, and it was... Easter Sunday and everything, every barbecue pit in the town, was CLOSED!
Was I dreaming a horrible nightmare or had I died and been sent to some specific Hell designed for my most exquisite torment? Find out in the next terrifying installment of my Austin trip report, which features-- no joke-- bats, great flying hordes of bats!