Ode to the Whip In

Sure, you were hoping for something high concept, like going to Barton Springs or visiting Sixth Street. Sorry. After all the stresses of last week I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my cave and hide from the world. So, my recommended four spare hours would be spent banging on a guitar and taking a running dive into a nice cold 12-pack.

"But what's that got to do with Austin," you protest. Sure you can get beer anywhere ('cepting some backwards places like North Dallas). Ah, but only in Austin can you get your beer at the Whip In.

The Whip In lives deep in the heart of South Austin, Texas. You'd likely pass it by without a second look. From the outside, it appears to be another broken down convenience store. You'd expect if you entered, you'd find a fine selection of fried pies and pickled eggs.

If you stop, you'll discover all is not as it appears. Your first sign would be the music: classical music, turned up to levels louder than you hear at--rock on dude!--your neighborhood Thundercloud sub shop. And rather than coolers full of fizzy sugar water, they are full of beer. Glorious beer! Most any brand you could want, provided it's distributed in Texas.

The store is so full of beer, it's hard to move through the aisles. There are some great deals that can be had on the weekly specials. My favorites are the 12-packs of Harp and Bass, at the regular price of $10.99 and $11.99, respectively.

And if you buy singles, they'll throw in a free South Austin coozie (which would be called a "brown paper bag" in other parts).

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re: Ode to the Whip In

Ah... the Whip In. Great joint. Glad to see that you appreciate it, too!

re: Ode to the Whip In

Chip, this is awesome writing... I'm rolling on the floor and my sides are hurting from laughing... Rock on to you to, dude!

re: Ode to the Whip In

Reminds me of the classical-music-powered cab I rode in many years ago coming back to Austin from visiting the folks. The hippie/good-old-boy cabbie enjoyed two things in life that I know of: listening to all-classical KMFA and telling tall tales to passengers. He convinced me that Leonard Masters, the KMFA fixture with the basso profundo voice and the old school pedant's diction who prerecorded most of the station's announcements, was a skinny black man. I swallowed the story and it was only some years later, when the Daily Texan did a profile on Masters, that I learned that he was (of course) really a very large white guy.

Leonard Masters passed on a few years back, another forgotten Austin institution. I wonder if the cabbie is still around?

re: Ode to the Whip In

ah, whip in...i do often.