It's 9 pm. We head out on bikes, weaving in and out of crowds of SXSW folks. It's like living Pacman, but with more monsters and no direct route. So Asteroids. Our bullets being strong eye contact in attempts to silently warn oncommers that- no, we have no intention of moving, so they'd best step aside.
We exchange glances from our positions in the crowd periodically, making sure the other hasn't been decked by a celebratory St.Patrick's Day drunkard. This in no time, triggers a race under the 35 bridge towards the calmer streets on the East side. We both win in that we weren't taken out by a cab or LA hipster waiting for the next big thing.
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