Urban legend or truth? Is everything really bigger in Texas? Hair? Vehicles? Food? Let’s figure this out.
When we landed Sunday evening in San Antonio Airport I saw a lot of hair, mostly blonde, but not big. Of course, airports are filled with tourists, so perhaps the natives, the Big Hair Natives, weren’t picking friends and family members up last evening. Big Hair: Truth or Legend? Jury is still out.
We took a shuttle to Hertz to pick up our Nissan Versa. It’s not a large vehicle and it’s not a small vehicle, but hey, we’re tourists so we don’t count! My husband Mike drove last evening. Mike is a hunched over the wheel, seat as close as can be, don’t go a speck over the speed limit kind of driver; he and the Versa we rented were perfectly in tune, until we had to merge onto the superhighway, one of the many roadways stacked one on top of the other like so many ribbons. Mike, doing the best he could with the power he had under the hood, floored it and, I swear, he closed his eyes and prayed. We were in the slip stream of Big Vehicles. Black half-ton pickups, big butt old Blazers, huge old sedans. You name the make and model of Big American Vehicle and it passed us last night. Oh don’t get me wrong, every once in a while we saw other people in normal sized vehicles, like these guys in the red Kia Soul,
but I’m sure most of us are tourists. Big Vehicles: Truth or Legend? Truth!
We checked into our condo at the Hyatt Wild Oak Ranch (love it, love it, love it) and decided to eat at JB’s, the resort’s restaurant, before venturing back out onto the Highway of Big Vehicles to find a food store. Mike ordered hot wings and I ordered a Cabo Salad (leaf lettuce, avocado, tomato and red onion).
I knew I was in Texas the minute I tasted the salad dressing: Sweat beads formed over my top lip and my scalp tingled.; the dressing has a chile kick. Surprising, but good. The waiter brought Mike’s wings over and we stared at them. Mike tentatively poked one with a fork; I admit, I thought the wing was going to rise up off the plate and poke Mike back.
Texans don’t break the “wing” down into drumstick and wing segments. Oh Noooo. But even if we put our East Coast wing segments back together to make a whole wing there is no way the wing would be even half the size of the puppies on Mike’s plate. Big Food: Truth or Legend? Truth!