After our return from Krause Springs, I sat in the hotel room looking through my pictures while Shannon hit the fitness room for her Saturday run. They actually pumped HD content into our beautiful widescreen television, but navigating the channels was so slow that I gave up and left it on a half-way compelling “Shark Week” episode.
That night we started with a gourmet ethnic dinner — items from Taco Bell’s fresco menu, and then drove out to The Oasis for dessert. The parking reminded me more of a concert venue than a restaurant. There was a guy in a golf cart transporting people from their cars to the building, for tips. As he zinged past us, he gestured for me to park on the side of the road, as all the parking spots were full, and gave me a thumbs up when he saw I was following his suggestion.
Still outside the building, a lady making balloon animals and painting faces took our picture as we posed in the Starship Oasis. It was a neat piece of art that made me think of the movie Explorers (forgot about that one, didn’t you?).
Next we hit the long waiting line to be seated. A tall young woman wearing a nametag and holding a walkie-talkie made her way along the line. My face pointed in her general direction, I said, “So, if we just want to get dessert and watch the sunset, can we just go to the bar?”
“I think so. Hold on.” She said something into her walkie-talkie. Something about a malfunctioning transporter, I think. “Yes, you can get dessert in the bar. To do that, just go up that way,” she pointed to a wide staircase on the right side of the multi-story building.
We followed her directions and the sound of live music. That and the crowd grew louder as we rounded the landing and made the final climb to the top floor, a large, open-air room filled with tables. A band played 70’s and 80’s classic rock tunes, switching lead vocals between three of them. Nobody was dancing, but it wasn’t really that kind of music.
We found a spot between stage left (or is it right?) and the wide opening to the back deck. As soon as we settled, I got up and bumped and twisted my way through strangers to scope out the view. Far below, Lake Travis, lined by tree-covered hills and capped by the open Texas sky, reflected the sun’s golden light. A line of clouds provided good texture and color.
Already the sungazers had gathered, cameras in hand, to watch the spectacle of another day coming to an end. Below us several layers of decks jutted from the building, where diners enjoyed an unobstructed view. Being there reminded me most of a cruise ship. Or, rather, it reminded me of the images I have seen of cruise ships. I snapped a few shots and retreated back to our table.
As we people-watched, Shannon and I noticed a young woman wearing cowboy boots and a skirt, or maybe a dress. We couldn’t quite tell from our view of her. We knew for sure, however, that her knees were far apart and that the middle-aged gentleman a few tables over, his head tilted down slightly, probably was getting an eyeful.
We shared and made short work of a warm chocoloate brownie with vanilla ice cream. Our server ended up comping my cup of decaf, because first he had to find some to brew, and then he couldn’t find any creamer. As a capper, he served it in one of the large plastic beer cups, stacked into another of same to keep my hand from getting too hot. I took the milk he offered and added ice from my icewater to make a subpar cup of iced coffee.
There are just some places one should know better than to order java.
Back outside, we saw vendors including a 20-something man selling carnivorous plants. “Hey, for a funny story, what would be a good vendor to place next to that one?” I asked Shannon. We couldn’t think of any flying insect that someone would sell at such a place, so the idea died.
The Oasis was worth the 20-minute drive.
Up next: we finally hit Sixth Street and hear the voice of an American ex-president. Click to go to the Conclusion.