4:11 p.m.: So Friday night, Houston Press music editor Chris Gray called and said, “Hey, I had an idea. Why don’t you ride The Wave for an hour and do one of those timelines you always do. It could be good.” It seemed like a solid idea at the time; drunk people usually do all sorts of nonsensical tomfoolery worth writing about.
But after about four minutes riding on it, it very clearly was a sucker deal. There’s all types of amazingness going on outside, and we’re stuck in what is essentially a moving vomitorium. It smells like a frat house in here. This is the worst. We’ve been hustled, big time. Gray might as well have been like, “Yo, we’re all going to this really great strip club tomorrow. You should come. It’s gonna be great. Oh, but you can only hang out in the restroom.”
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