It was late on a Thursday evening in Austin, Texas, and I had just finished my shift downtown waiting tables. I hopped into my truck and headed away from the chaos to my own personal oasis, Dan's Depot. It was on a four-lane road that went straight from the heart of Austin to West Texas. Once, Dan's Depot had been outside of the city. But with Austin's population growing and the city's expansion, it was swallowed up by high-rise buildings and skyscrapers.
I've been familiar with Dan's Depot since I played my first show there. Like most waiters in Austin, I'm actually a musician. The woman who welcomes customers is Dan's wife Maude. I slid my truck into the last free spot and headed to the door. "How's it going, Maude?" I asked. "David, I just don't know what we're going to do," she said. "Our contract with the landlord is up for renewal at the end of the month, and he has doubled the rent. Even if we charged twice as much for the snacks and shows, we could never make ends meet."
My heart dropped. On some level, I'd been expecting to hear this news for as long as I'd been coming to Dan's Depot. After all, Dan's Depot was now sandwiched between a shop selling yoga pants to people who could afford personal trainers and a luxury furniture store where even a simple dining chair cost more than $1,000. How could this little live music joint survive with those kinds of neighbors?
"What are you going to do with this place?Are you moving?" I asked.
She shook her head slowly. "I just don't know. Dan and I are not as young as we used to be." I patted her on the shoulder and made my way to the tables near the stage. Memories sprung up in my mind. Most of my musical ideas came to me while I was watching live shows here at Dan's Depot. When the song ended, I got up and went back to Maude.
"How about I run the new Dan's Depot?" I asked her. She stared at me, surprised.
"Hear me out," I said. "I've got enough money to go in with you and Dan as a third partner. I know the Texas music scene in and out, and I can get the best new bands in here every week. We'll move it way down South Congress Avenue, where it's still close enough to be accessible from downtown but the rent is more affordable. And most importantly, this place means a lot to me."
Maude was still staring at me silently. I began to grow uneasy. Had I offended her? I started apologizing. She cut me off with a huge embrace. "Honey, I think that's a fantastic idea."
