How to Fail at Franklin Barbecue

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This week, Scott and his harem of hungries braved the line at Dallas' famed meat mecca, Pecan Lodge. While they were taking months off their lives, I was attempting a similar feat in Austin. Upon arriving in Longhorn Land with my dude and our dog, we resolved to do two things: eat tacos and spend a ridiculous amount of money at Franklin Barbecue. The former was easy, the latter not so much.

Following this detailed plan and you, too, can guarantee you'll be having Not Franklin Barbecue for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next 48 hours and will arrive back home to the disappointment of everyone you've ever met.

See also:
- Franklin Barbecue: Three Hours From Now, You Could Be In Brisket Heaven
- The Best Barbecue in Dallas? Get in Line.

Step 1: Go to Austin. Hell bent on getting our hands on what is supposed to be the sexiest, barkiest, porniest, smoke-ringiest brisket on the planet, we made a terribly ineffective plan to get up early and get our brisketless asses in the Franklin Barbecue line early Saturday morning. We even made the very responsible decision to forgo beer and any and all frozen, tequila-laden beverages on Friday night to avoid dying in line the next morning. Full of greasy deshebrada tacos, queso fundido and a gluttonous pile of fresh and floppy corn tortillas, our luxurious La Quinta digs beckoned and we fell asleep (one of us still sporting a single flip flop) with visions of burnt ends and endless high fives with all the Franklin patrons dancing in our heads.

Step 2: Wake up at a La Quinta on the very northwest side of Austin and search feverishly for any device that can tell you the cursed time because maybe just this once, the sun's position in the sky and subsequent bright-as-balls sunlight filling up your hotel room doesn't mean what you know it to mean. There's no way it's as early as it needs to be. You moron.

Step 3: Locate phone under the dog, punch your other half in the ass repeatedly until he wakes up so you can have someone with whom to freak the hell out because it's 10 a.m. and people have been in line for well over three hours by now.

Step 4: Ignore the storm of meat-flavored fear growing inside your heart as images of the SOLD OUT sign you saw on No Reservations dance around in your head. This can't be happening.

Step 5: Take dog outside and while in the elevator, discuss with him the importance of taking a fast and furious shit so Mommy and Daddy can go buy smoked meat (that we won't share). Have an adult hissy fit when the dog takes FORFUCKINGEVER to find the perfect spot to sully with his dog business.


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