Walking down Sixth Street felt a bit like passing through a football field the day after a big game. Other parts of the city — Las Manitas, the area around Waterloo Records and Book People — were about as crowded as one might expect in a city late on a Sunday morning. Passing the bars and restaurants that had, the previous night, abounded with revelers lent the early afternoon a sedate feeling.
I crossed the street to the 500 block, passing the Austin edition of Coyote Ugly. The door was open and a few bodies could be seen at the bar. Through the open door, “Don’t Stop Believing” dissolved into the air outside, looking for a fist to pump. I walked on.