Date: Monday, March 14, 2016
Time: 1:49 p.m. (CST still, duh)
Place: The back of a Super Shuttle Van
Driver: You must be with Dell.
Very, Very Rich Guy: I work for a software company. Yeah, they flew us in for a conference again. Last year – I think it was November – they had music. Wilco and Duran Duran.
Driver: Wow.
Very, Very Rich Guy (Looking at me the entire time): Yeah, I like Wilco. I didn’t even remember Duran Duran, but the more songs they played, the more I forgot how great they were. They were really good.
Driver: Yeah.
My Inner Voice: Why are you looking at me? Please stop looking at me. Why do people automatically think I want to talk about music all the time? Is the unkempt hair? Is it because I haven’t shaved? Is it because I look homeless 64 percent of my life? Come on, man. I’d like you much more if you wanted to talk “The Good Wife.”
Very, Very Rich Guy (Now looking so much at me, I can see my reflection in his gray hair): Yeah, there’s a lot of music. I really like Wilco.
Silence.
Silence.
My Outer Voice: Yeah, you’ll probably run into a lot of music this time around.
Driver (Condescending remarks implicit in parenthesis): Of course (you idiot, don’t you know this is like the music capital of the universe?)!!!
Very, Very Rich Guy: Yeah!!!! (Duh!!!!! I know more than you!!!! I like Wilco!!!!)
Silence.
More silence.
All of the silence.
Silence times a trillion.
Welcome to Austin.
