a color story: juiceland

Juiceland was a Texas franchise specializing in healthy juices. From the raw vegetable and health-focused blends to the sweeter and icy pleasures, Juiceland served its customer’s beverage needs. Spotting a franchise location at Guadalope Road and a Wholefood market venue, Juiceland didn’t just trail the hip areas but made ways as a symbol of gentrification. Still, I haven’t tried their product.

In Canada, there were franchises, Booster Juice and Village Juicery which both served beverages in their niches, but Juiceland seemed to be on a lane of its own; it didn’t remind me of one thing nor the other. Texas and Juice weren’t blending in a coherent matter. But, this was Austin and they played their own rules.

On our last day, we decided to take a chance on this Texas juicery. Checked out. Left the bags at the hotel. We scootered into the outdoor sauna. Still, the weather wouldn’t cool down. 30 degrees was a casual morning. Our Juiceland destination was near the parks, south of the river. Although my decked-out Uniqlo’s “Airism” outfit attempted to cool my body temperature, I diverted my attention to the grass when the scooters were bordered off remotely.

I couldn’t believe what I was feeling on the surface. I wasn’t accustomed to this back in Canada. It had to be a type of grass where it could retain water well, and thrive in hot climates. How could this grass be so spongey and bouncy? Fascinated by the natural phenomenon, I wished I was the grass. I wished I could be this water retentive as I recalled a certain scene in Action Bronson’s vacation in Paris where Clovis, the Wine Shaman, got a little too carried away with the flounder.

At last, we found our destination. The Juiceland wasn’t in a plaza. This bougie shed appeared on a slope with a complimentary bench/patio. I don’t know whether this location was the first one but I got the same impressions of Burger’s Priest debut near Woodbine Beach. With a step inside their door, the intimate space showered with the strong air conditioning. Placed under a spell or a cold sensation, an odd thought appeared, “where we're all the hipsters? Where were all the hopeless artists?” They had probably been priced out of the area as I stared at the numbers on the menu.

It was a small space. But in a way, they made it work. Every inch of the space had a purpose and I don’t know how this met the city’s building code requirements. I was drawn by the menu which stood on the top half of the wall. Woah. Coconut water was an ingredient for a juice and not a standalone drink. I knew that was the one for me. Everything else announced itself as a juice or a smoothie without coconut water.

Who had the audacity to mix the coconut water with other ingredients? Wasn’t the milk-like consistency and the subtle sour taste enough for a beverage? I hoped that the other ingredients would elevate or complement the coconut water. Once we ordered, I was a little disappointed that they didn’t juice it from a raw coconut but I was impressed by their selection of coconut water brands. I recalled sipping on this brand of coconut water at South Beach.

With their raised low ceiling open kitchen, the staff of four was completing their day-to-day tasks. One face walked out of the room with a familiar eerie disgust. Although she didn’t say it, her face expressed something of “my artistic talents is too good for this job but the juice is my breakfast and pays for the overpriced rent”. Of course, this was an assumption. I, too, felt this way before; it was almost like seeing a version of myself. Could this be the hopeless creator that I’ve been searching for?

I should mind my own business.

Rushing through the door, two Spinolli’s — the iconic character played by Sean Penn in “Fast Times in Ridgemont High” — made quite an entrance with their shirts off and rocking a surfer’s vibe. I presumed that they were twins, brothers, or best friends. Regardless, the water must have been in proximity to accompany their lifestyle. But, their odd-beat movement and squinting eyes suggested the influence of the devil’s lettuce.

Then, I saw them dancing as the two Instagram babes slowly made their presence ever so present. With a little wave, the two ladies rejected their gesture with a look of subtle disgust. My facial read was one of “eww… you could be my smaller brother”. But, the way the two Spinollis carried themselves was impressive. They just rode back on the calm wave — brushing off the ‘L’ like it was nothing. There was always another wave.

Minding my own business, right?

Our orders eventually hit the counter. As we took a sip, we both knew that the drinks underdelivered to our taste. I was expecting more of a kick, or some notes of consuming electrolytes and the coconut water were present only as a liquid. They didn’t stand a chance from an active home juice maker with a culinary background. Maybe the locals at Austin had a different way of consuming or it may just be diluted with the tears and sweat of the hopeless artist. I kid. I kid of course.

Off to our next destination, we walked out in the sauna enjoying the nice walk along the park.