Call it what you will, the gift of gab or whatever, I have the ability to make new friends on a whim.  While in Austin this weekend, I was in rare form … chatting up people right and left.

“You’re annoyingly affable”, one of my friends once told me.  It’s funny because it’s true.  My friend Kati said over dinner this week, “It’s impossible for you not to attempt being amicable with someone.  Once you like someone, they simply must become friends with you.”

I met the strangest assortment of people whilst traipsing around Austin.  Take Shane, for instance.  Shane is a heavily tattooed virtual friend of mine.  We were tight on Facebook (where a definite social media kinship was born), but had never met in real life.  So imagine my surprise when he spied I was in Austin and met me out for a drink.  My buddies were immediately suspect.  “Who the hell is this and what do you mean you’ve never met?” my friend Eric asked in hushed undertones.  I tried to explain how Facebook suggested we become acquainted, and who am I to judge FB’s matchmaking abilities?  Shane, not unlike his FB posts, is goofy, irreverent and charming, everything you want in a new BFF.

Plus, now I kinda want to get a tattoo.

While muddling my way through a post-binge drinking brunch this morning, I met Sarah … our server and an aspiring blues singer.  My opening salvos to her?  “I swear I will pay you $1 million if you will PUH-LEEZE turn do this blaring music,” I begged.  “Phil Collins should never be played this loud ever – let alone when I’m wildly hungover.”

Not only did she oblige, but she proceeded to charm the pants off the boys at our table and inform us that she was just as hungover, if not more, than we were.  (Highly doubtful, but whatever.)  We bonded over mind-numbing headaches.  And by the end of brunch, we were both singing “Sussidio” at the top of our respective lungs.  And while my headache dissipated briefly, my buddies demanded we stop singing after one refrain.

It was great getting to bond with Sarah.  When she becomes famous, I’ll say I knew her when.

Bud and Vance are pals of my friends.  I’ve heard about ’em for months now.  So I had this mental image of what they’d be like, and it was spot-on for the Texas natives.  Vance, as expected, wore his Wranglers about a half size too small. Bud is, like the name mandates, everyone’s bud.  Everything he says has an “aw shucks” sensibility to it and he smiles at virtually anything.  I always feel like the odd man out when I fall in to an established group of friends, but they were warm and accommodating.  (Read that: they bought me drinks all night.)

Now I’m not saying I’m gonna be lifelong friends with Shane, Sarah and BudVance (VanceBud?) … but I’m gonna try.  Hell, I’ve already immortalized them in a blog.  That’s a good start, right?  Right!