The Hole in the Wall

It's an old seedy bar on Guadalupe. I teethed on the bar stools there, and my group of extra family that love and raised me in Austin are the Hole in the Wall Gang. They gathered Sunday night to mourn the tragic death of one of their own, and in the beautiful complexity of life I relished the opportunity to get hug after hug, the deep, knowing, "we're so glad you live on this continent now" ones. Home.

This is the womens bathroom. It's a two seater, come on in.