Little Miss S Keeps on (Food) Truckin’

Oh my goodness, guys. I just found out that my big lame city has a food truck park! First, when did this happen and second, why wasn’t I notified?!

THIS IS A FOOD TRUCK, SON!

Okay, so the answer to the first part is “last October” and the second is “because my head was up my bottom and also I am not a hipster.” Although I am concerned that my desire to go visit said food truck park is an indication of my hipster tendencies.

Good, we've got that straightened out.

There’s already a mobile restaurant here that I love called Rocker Dogz that has crazy, delicious hot dogs that are totally worth the $5 price tag and the sodium overload. The one I had back in December was the Thai Kickboxer and it included cabbage and spicy cock sauce (also known to boring people as Sriracha). Taste sensation, guys. He also has soy dogs for those who prefer them and tater tots laced with insanity. It was while searching for where he’d be this weekend that I discovered the food truck and art park this town has been hiding from me.

Oh, did I not mention that it’s also an art space? It’s as if someone took a little bit of Austin, snipped it off with the root system intact, brought it here and set it in the lovely park area. There’s also an open air bar, a playground to keep shrieking children and eels busy, and live music when they can get someone awesome in. If there was ever a reason to get in the know about the scene in this place, it is so I don’t miss out on this sort of thing in the future.

I was already thinking I should put on my manic pixie dream girl disguise (including Wayfarers, multicolored broomstick skirt with my Shins t-shirt, manky Chucks and knee socks) and get out there to check things out when I learned a thing about the place that sealed the deal.

Photo books! Tiny quilts! Ephemera!

ART-O-MAT. If you hate fun, you might not have heard about Art-O-Mats. They’re old cigarette vending machines that have been repurposed to sell tiny, unique pieces of art at a modest and reasonable price. I never thought there would be one in this place, and it turns out there are THREE. I have been wasting my life, y’all.

Pfft. Mine were all knackered before it was cool.

Apparently this haven of neatness is only open Friday, Saturday and Sunday during relaxation hours, so I’m thinking of pawing under the couch for spare change and going out there tomorrow with my gentleman friend for strange weenies (or maybe Cajun? There’s a Cajun truck!) and tiny art. If I do, you can rest assured that there will be photographs and a full account.

Maybe I’ll even take a pic of me in my hipster suit.

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