 After a semi-embarrassing trip to Hippie Hollow, Nick and Sarah hopped in the Jeep and headed southeast to find THE Houston, Texas perfect engagement ring. Sarah leaned her head back against the headrest and looked at Nick. “If everything truly IS bigger in Texas, do you think that will mean the diamonds are bigger?” She asked. Nick smiled. “Do you really believe everything is bigger in Texas?” “I read it on a t-shirt somewhere,” Sarah explained. Taking Nick’s hand off of the gear-shift, she kissed it and told him, “I don’t believe EVERYTHING is.” They were listening to Lyle Lovett, a Houston native, to get into a Houston state of mind. Nick belted out the lyrics to “She’s No Lady”, remembering each word from listening to the ‘Live in Texas’ CDs in college. “Know who’s from Houston?” Sarah asked, not really asking. Nick sighed. “AJ Foyt,” she told him. “The Indy 500 guy?” he asked. She nodded. “Wes Anderson, the guy who directed ‘Rushmore; Paul Wall, the guy with the diamond grill, Patrick Swayze, Brent Spiner…” She paused, thinking. “And Renee Zellweger,” She told him. “Aw, Babe,” Nick said, “You had me at ‘Brent Spiner’.” Sarah laughed. “You are such a nerd.” “Beyonce is from Houston, too,” Nick told her. “Yes,” Sarah responded. “I suppose she is.” Sarah was hostile toward Beyonce for her enviable rear-view. She lamented being from a family of “buttless” people. Nick grinned, knowing what she was thinking. When he turned off of I-610 before she expected, she asked, “Where are you taking me?” “There’s just something I really need to see,” he explained. “If it has to do with Beyonce, I’m walking back to New York,” she told him. Slowing down and looking at street signs to figure out where they were, Nick had turned into Annoying Tourist Guy. Sarah tapped her fingers on the dashboard impatiently. Nick ignored her. Soon, they were in a neighborhood of small houses. Suddenly, he jammed on the brakes. Sarah turned to swear at him, and then saw why he stopped. They both got out of the Jeep, not taking their eyes off of the house alongside them. Nick waited for Sarah and proudly put his arm around her. “This is the Beer Can House,” he announced. Sarah cocked her head to one side. “I should say that it is,” she responded. The Beer Can House stood proudly, completely aluminum-sided—with flattened aluminum beer cans. There was no lawn, but elaborately placed marble and stones, with no greenery whatsoever. Nick looked at Sarah, whose eyebrows had gone so high that they disappeared into her hair. “A guy named John Milkovisch started in 1968 by covering the yard with all this marble, rock, metal, wood, and concrete. He said it was easier than mowing the lawn,” Nick explained. Sarah started to say something, then stopped. Then she said, “And he did this to the house because it was easier than painting every year?” Nick hugged her. “I love your brains,” he said. “That’s an estimated 50,000 beer cans.” “I love those beer-can-top garlands,” Sarah told him. “They’re like wind chimes, a beautiful-sounding little testament to alcohol.” They stood for a few minutes, but tours were only available on weekends, so they decided they would try to come back over the next few days. Nick reached for Bob-the-GPS to get them to the hotel. As they pulled up to 5701 Main Street, Houston, TX 77005, Nick looked at Sarah like he wanted to ask a question. “Dude,” she told him as she raced the bellhop to get her bags, “you just took me to a house covered in—what was it?—50,000 beer cans. I chose a hotel called the Hotel Zaza. It spoke to me. And we got an amazing price on Orbitz.com.” Nick relented from what had become a struggle with an aggressively-helpful bellhop, surrendering his bags and putting his hands up. “Zaza,” he muttered. Sarah nudged him. “You’ll like it. I promise.” They walked into the hotel and were overwhelmed by the lobby, which had a bar and what looked like a gigantic zebra-print chair, but was actually low enough to be a couch. Sarah ran over to it and sat on it, extending her legs out in front of her. “I feel like Edith Ann,” she said. “You look tiny,” Nick responded. “Well,” Sarah told him, “Edith Ann was only five years-old.” “Who knows that?” Nick asked as he went to check them in. As they made their way down the hall to their room, giving in to having their bags brought up for them, they noticed the paintings on walls. “This is art,” Nick said. “Like real art. Not like cheesy-motel-watercolor-landscape art.” “So?” Sarah asked, waiting for an apology for doubting her hotel selection. He put his arm around her and kissed her on the side of the head. “Houston,” he said, “we do NOT have a problem.” Their room had a king-sized bed that was begging to be jumped on, but Nick and Sarah were motivated to check out the city. They put on their running clothes and sneakers and headed out for the Discovery Green. It was already hot in Texas, and they were enjoying the heat. For a while. “I’ve got quite a schvitz going, babe,” Sarah breathlessly told Nick as they ran. “I know just where to go,” he responded. As soon as they got to the park, Nick led them to the Mist Tree, which they could see for more than a block and made them run faster. The Mist Tree, standing 15 feet tall and showing both a curtain of rain and a fine mist all around, was irresistible. Nick and Sarah kicked off their sneakers and danced around in the water, then just stood there and let themselves get soaked. “We should get one of these for the backyard,” Nick said, squinting as the water hit him. “I’ll get right on that,” Sarah told him. They picked up their shoes and socks and carried them as they walked around the park. They stood inside the Listening Vessels, two parabolas 60 feet apart, to see if they really could talk at a normal volume and have the other person hear. Nick started saying something, but Sarah couldn’t hear. She held up her arms and shrugged to let him know. He did it again. She gestured again. Then he said something else, but she still couldn’t hear. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Sarah yelled. “THESE THINGS DON’T WORK!” Nick was covering his ears and almost cowering, but laughing. Sarah could hear him laughing, loud and clear. He had been mouthing words just to mess with her. They meandered around, checking out the different art and gardens. Sarah pointed to a bench, asking, “Shall we go to the, um, JP Morgan Chase bench area and put our shoes back on?” Nick nodded. “We’ve already passed the Wachovia Securities Seating Area, the Anheuser-Busch Stage, and the Wells Fargo Seating Area,” he began. “This place is a very beautiful, natural, and much sought-after testimony to naming rights.” As they began jogging again, Sarah said, “You remember that we’re going to Minute Maid Park tomorrow night, right?” Nick didn’t respond as they headed back to the hotel to shower and get ready for a night of beer drinking. After consulting a map and realizing that the Flying Saucer Draft Emporium at 705 Main Street, Houston, TX 77002 was not, in fact, right up the street as the address seemed to indicate, they decided to drive. They had to wait a bit to get a table, but were glad once they did. They loved the idea that they had more than 200 beers to choose from. First they ordered the chicken nachos grande and 2 Brooklyn Local 1 beers, to ‘get a taste of home’. Then they attacked the beer menu with vigor. After trying several of Houston’s finest brews, they expanded to Texas. Then their server suggested that they try the Double Chocolate Stout Ice Cream Float. “Beer,” Sarah said, “that tastes chocolatey, and has ice cream in it?” She looked questioningly at the woman, who nodded. Sarah looked at Nick, looked back at the server, and said, “Two straws, please.” “This is delicious,” Sarah told Nick as they sipped it. “but I’m getting so full.” “Me too,” Nick admitted. “Also, I think I’m a little buzzed,” Sarah said. “Me too,” Nick repeated. “And I totally don’t get why the servers are in schoolgirl outfits,” Sarah whispered, but very loudly. “I’m guessing,” Nick began, “that the owners of this chain are men.” “What next?” Sarah asked. “Well,” Nick told her, “Since we clearly cannot drive and have to find a taxi anyway, why don’t we have it take us to that absinthe bar?” And so, leaving their car in the 5th safest city in the US, they took a cab to the Absinthe Lounge. Sarah woke up, startled, and rubbed her eyes. She shook Nick until he woke up. “Please stop,” he begged. “What city are we in, Nicky?” Sarah asked. Nick sat up and rubbed her arm. “Houston.” He told her. “My head doesn’t feel so good,” she said. Nick nodded in agreement, then cocked his head to one side. “Babe,” he asked. “What is stuck to your face?” Sarah groped her own face until she found something sticking to her right temple. She looked at it for a minute, then held it further away, squinting at it. Then she sniffed it. Nick was watching, mesmerized. “I just remembered part of last night,” she proudly announced. “This is one of the chocolate-covered sunflowers they put on your pillow here, instead of mints or some junk like that.” “You were pelting me with those for a while, right?” “I think so,” Sarah told him. “I think we should really focus on coffee, though, and maybe some Tylenol.” Having missed breakfast, they headed out in search of the nearest coffee shop. After they could hold their heads up, they decided to try looking for engagement rings while looking like death warmed over. That, they had never done before. They walked into one of Houston’s many great jewelry stores and started looking at rings. While they were both dressed nicely enough, their faces told a different story. Nick began looking at rings and Sarah began browsing in other parts of the shop. After being approached by a woman named Elizabeth, Nick explained that he was looking for an engagement ring. “I have some questions, though,” he told her. “First, we aren’t from here, so what if we have problems with a ring we buy here?” “That’s easy,” Elizabeth explained. “You just ship it back to us, and we can clean it every six months and make sure the settings are secure.” “And if it needs re-sizing?” Nick asked. “Certainly,” she told him. “There’s only a small fee for that.” “How is best to send it?” Nick went on.
“Well,” she began, “You want to make sure that you insure it for the total amount of the ring…” Suddenly, Sarah interrupted. “I see that you have quite an array of religious jewelry,” she said to Elizabeth. Smiling, Elizabeth said, “Why yes, we have one of the largest selections in the state. What are you looking for?” “A Star of David,” Sarah said, folding her arms and looking angry. “A what?” Sarah took Nick’s hand and said, “We’re leaving.” After they walked out, Nick kissed Sarah on the top of the head. “Well played,” he told her. “Yes, well, I got skills,” Sarah told him. “Now let’s go see an ornate chapel.” They had read about the Byzantine Fresco Chapel Museum online. When they walked in, their mouth hung open. “Wow,” Sarah said. “Yeah,” Nick agreed. “Wow. But this Byzantine stuff is way more your area than mine.” “Is it not incredible?” Sarah asked. “They had to put these frescoes back together from 38 pieces. 38 pieces from the 13th Century. How awesome is that?” “Awesome indeed,” Nick said, although Sarah was clearly more interested in it than he was. She spent about a half an hour looking at the dome from the church in Cyprus, an amazing depiction of Jesus. Then she started to examine the apse. When she was finished, she and Nick began walking back to the hotel holding hands. “You’re a strange girl,” Nick said. “Yes, I know,” Sarah told him. “But why bring it up now?” “Well, does it not seem funny to you,” Nick asked, “that you went ballistic on the woman in the jewelry store for their lack of Judaica, and then you spend an hour staring at THE icon of Christianity?” Sarah smiled. “Well, maybe,” she said. “When you put it that way.” After a nap back at the hotel, they dressed up for an early dinner at the Monarch Restaurant in the hotel. When server asked if they’d like to see a wine list, they both turned slightly green and shook their heads. “Iced tea, I guess?” Sarah said. “Make that two, please,” Nick followed. As they looked over the menu, Nick smiled. “I think this is a first for us,” he said, indicating their iced tea glasses. “I know, right?” Sarah laughed. And then they ate an amazing meal, building up their strength for the night ahead. But first, they had to change clothes, again. In the hotel room, Sarah looked through her suitcase. “I have absolutely nothing suitable for the National League,” she told Nick. “Neither do I, babe,” he said. “I guess we just go neutral.” That night, the Houston Astros were playing the Cincinnati Reds. Sarah had once again scored great seats from her connections in baseball. As they sat down two rows back from the Astros dugout, Nick told her, “You know I really do love you.” She smiled. “You’re just easy for field-level seats,” she said. “And I really love you, too.” “Pitchers’ duel tonight,” Nick commented. “I know,” Sarah said. “I’m dying to see Wandy Rodriguez pitch in person. And to see if Pudge Rodriguez’s ass is really that big.” “They say the tv adds 10 pounds,” Nick said, smiling. “Just to his butt?” Sarah asked. “It’s baseball!” Nick told her. “It’s a game of big butts.” “I know,” Sarah sighed. “It’s the best thing about the game, you know, from a woman’s perspective.” “I’d believe that,” Nick said, “if you didn’t know more stats off the top of your head than I do.” They rubbed noses and settled in for a beautiful night of baseball in Houston.
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