the directions say – on the internet – take this highway down, easy enough, right?
not right. the internet calls it one thing. the road is not the road is not the road.
it’s first called 183 – which is not the highway – and then you take this road down to places that point and say there will be this highway off that way somewhere in the distance (though the map says you’re on the road the whole time), and then this road merges onto a major thoroughfare – er… TWO major thoroughfares because the highway twists like vines as lanes spin up or down around each other – and the roads bend and warp until at last – at *last* – the road bears its own name on a sign.
this road is not an exception. roads bend and twist and warp and break and remain unlabeled or wrongly labeled.
also, citizens intentionally give outsiders the wrong directions with a smile.
driving in austin is like verbally wrestling with a hipster. this is, of course, a spitting contest to see who can get the other one more lost in specific references.
like, if you were really worthy of driving on these roads, you’d know them by heart, already. if i cut you, you’d bleed paint lines. if you smiled, your teeth would be paved with blacktop. your skin would be tattooed in road signs.
if you were one of us, you’d wear this hip city so close to your skin, you wouldn’t even need a car. you’d just happen to be in whatever place was hippest, hottest, and most-littered with abandoned fliers of events that have all become obscure references.
austin streets are as hipster as the population.