Meanwhile I'm sitting directly below a T-Mobile hotspot sign, watching the crappy connection flicker in and out. Not like I'm gonna pay for it anyway. Why the fuck do they make it so difficult to sign up, and then lock you into more of a plan than you need. Give me a screen when I open my browser where I can Choose the number of hours and enter my credit card number at a fee of maybe $2/hour. No... I have to go create an account. Sign up for a plan. Or buy a card from someone. Kinds screws with the whole on-the-fly aspect of wi-fi.
There's a heavyset old woman, with hair color that God never dreamed of, in a straw hat/blazer outfit that a Walmart greeter would scoff at, manning the Information desk. Texas has a very weird identity. Sort of a mutual hallucination of a campy western mixed with James Dean with a Clue. All rebellious, and proud of a norman rockwellish heritage that probably never existed. Eager to have you believe they live hard and don't take shit, even though they're the most laid back and friendly people I've met. I think they'd agree with the friendly part, if it was on their terms. Remember, they became their own country before they became a US state. "We'll get around to it when we damn well please".
I'm acutely aware that I'm burning precious battary here, and my brain seems to have run dry for the mo'. More later. I'm off in search of open wi-fi to get my porn fix.
Note (1 day later): Putting up the first of the pics now.
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