Day off in Texas, where the flat rock steps across the lawn to our hotel are shaped like… Texas. Everything here is BIG! Everything here is a chain. Ryan bought a cheap blue reclining chair at Target and we all waited for our turn to sit in it because we had nothing else to do. We’re in a suburb of Houston where it’s 95 degrees, there’s an indoor pool that’s too depressing to swim in, and we aren’t mobile.
For lunch we were convinced by the Texan in our band to eat at “Luby’s,” a famous cafeteria chain down here. “Try the chicken-fried steak,” said the Texan. So we went to Luby’s and filled our plates with mashed potatoes and green beans and chicken-fried things and Texas toast and everyone took about two bites of their meal and lost interest in them. That’s when an innocent exchange between two members of our crew turned ugly.
Jamie Landry, 28, monitor engineer for Guster, was through with his meal and had stacked his plates of half-eaten food on top of each other with a slice of chocolate cream pie on the very top, when Sean Lynde, 27, drum tech for Guster, asked “can I have a bite of your pie?” Jamie’s answer: “No. I want to throw it out.”