Meat Invades San Diego

On February 1st, I decided to give up drinking for the month of February. With a few weddings, bachelor parties and the general onset of spring/ summer I thought it would be wise to take a little break before the debauchery that ensues over the next several months. I've given up boozing before and successfully completed the objective so I wasn't too concerned about my ability to do so for a second time. Two weeks ago however, two of my best buddies from Wesleyan, Chris and Nick, drove down from Salt Lake City, Utah to hang out for a weekend. Any previous ability to prevent alcohol consumption immediately became moot. The boys were in town and it was destined to get ugly.

The initial plan was for the two of them to get in late Thursday night...Valentine's Day. On their way out the door I was informed by the two fine gentlemen that they would be making a "pit stop" in Vegas before getting down to SD. Not surprisingly they didn't make it, instead ending up in L.A. They get some credit for making it to the correct state, just a few hundred miles of course. (In full disclosure, Nick went to see his girlfriend in L.A. and I would never fault him for that but when you say you're making a quick stop in Vegas, the odds of getting to your destination exponentially decrease.) They made it to PB around 7:30 pm on Friday and after grabbing a quick Gatorade to hydrate, we hit "PB Shore Club" for some dinner and more importantly, several cervezas. While walking to the bar, Nick proclaimed that his head-butting days were a thing of the past and he would not be head-butting anybody over the course of the night, no matter how drunk he got. For those of you who know Nick intimately, you understand the significance of this very important step in the young man's personal development and we are all thrilled for him.

The special at PB Shore Club every day is $3 Dos Equis or Bud Heavy so as you can imagine, we got after it. I've never been a fan of Dos Equis until I got out here, but it's amazing what $3 schooners can do to your taste buds. After a few hours, we headed over to this bar called "Longboards" where we met up with my buddy Jake and this girl Diana who came into town to surprise Anne and go to this Maceo Parker concert we all got tickets for on Saturday night. Jake and Di who we affectionately call "Dirty" were already hammered after putting back several Jack & Diet's to chase shots of Jack. They like to party. Nick, Chris and I decided it was a good time to switch to the good stuff, and by good stuff I mean Vodka Red Bulls for Chris and myself, while Nick plowed through several Gin & Tonics. After about 4 of those, I felt like I was on Speed and decided we'd bounce all the way back across PB and hit up this place called the Firehouse I have described in past editions of the blog.

Everything from this point on is pretty hazy. I ran into a few buddies at the bar but I can't really remember anything about our conversations and I nearly sat on a fire pit at the back of the bar for some reason. We got out of dodge when the bar closed and on the walk home made a pit stop at this 24 hour Taco shop called Ramiro's. Somehow between leaving the bar and attempting to order his burrito, Nick head-butted something. He claims it was one of those newspaper stands you see on street corners but I cannot confirm that it was in fact a newspaper stand. For all I know, it was a 75 year old senior citizen crossing the street but I'll give Nick the benefit of the doubt.

Let's rewind about 6 hours in the night. Nick proclaimed, and Chris can back me up on this, before he started drinking that he was over head-butting. Sure enough, around 1 am, the bridge of his nose was bleeding. I love my friends. Watching Nick go through ordering his burrito was a thing for America's Funniest Home Video's. Picture, a 5'11" white guy, with no neck, bleeding from the bridge of his nose, completely cocked ordering a Carne Asada burrito from a woman who spoke zero English. Despite placing his order and getting a ticket with an order number, he lost it within 30 seconds. I wish I could make this stuff up, but this is Nick. After Chris got his Taco's and I got my burrito we waited for a few minutes but they never called Nick's number. I went back to the window for his order and they looked at me like I had three heads. I asked Nick for his order number or receipt and he shot me the exact same look as the woman behind the counter before saying that he didn't have a number. We re-ordered his burrito which they popped out in about 2.5 seconds and off we were on our journey back to home base. Chris, Nick and I didn't make it 100 feet before Nick threw his burrito into the middle of Mission Boulevard for no reason. Again, I wish I could make this stuff up but it actually happened. I immediately wished I didn't just spend several minutes trying to convince the woman behind the counter that Nick had, in fact, ordered a Carne Asada burrito, only for him to throw it into the street at 1:30 in the morning.

I wisely devoured my burrito in a matter of minutes and then spent the rest of the walk home wrestling with Nick. He sucker punched me in the stomach and I tried to punch him back but caught his forearm and seriously hurt the knuckle on my right index finger. I walked in the door, convinced I broke my hand, grabbed an ice pack and got in bed with a not-so-happy girlfriend who had already passed out. Shortly thereafter I was making out with the Porcelain gods and admiring the different colors that make up a Carne Asada burrito with sour cream and cheese. Despite how disgusting that actually is, it was probably the best thing that happened to me that night.

Saturday morning didn't get off to a great start. The onset of a migraine was cured by a marvelous breakfast sandwich from this outstanding restaurant called Cantina a few blocks away from the apartment and about 4 Advil. I will devote a full blog post to this croissant breakfast sandwich at a later date...it is that good. After watching North Carolina dismantle Virgina Tech, Chris and I decided to try and catch a few waves at the beach. Actually, Chris decided he would try and catch a few waves and I decided I'd just try and not kill myself. The waves were pretty major and I got worked several times. Most notably, was the time I tried to paddle out past the break and reenacted the last scene from "The Perfect Storm." Chris got past the wave and later remarked that he said to himself "Ohh man, Hodge is in trouble." When I realized this could get interesting, I started paddling for my life. Right hand in, left hand in, right hand, left hand, right, left....Ohhh shit. I got just to the top of the wave as it crashed and threw me backwards. I ditched the board, curled into the fetal positions, covered my face and just hoped I didn't get break anything. It was definitely one of the scarier experiences I've ever been through because I didn't know what the hell I was doing and I was in probably the most exposed position one could probably be in. Fortunately I came out of it with all my limbs, teeth and man parts in tact. I tried a couple more times to get past the break but it was just not my day. I suck at surfing and don't know how many more times I'm going to try.

Saturday Night we went up to Solana Beach where Maceo Parker, a great Jazz/Blues Funk artist was playing at "The Belly Up". Jake "Shake & Bake" Simmons turned me on to Maceo Parker and I've been jamming out to his stuff for the last few months. We got into the Belly Up and hit the bar immediately. There was a woman on stage performing some sort of Slam poetry with a guy on the drunks and another on Piano. It was different but I must say pretty cool. We forced our way towards the stage and secured a quality spot to the right side of the stage. Maceo and the band came on stage and proceeding to KILL IT for about three hours. They played a bunch of his hits and slipped in a few covers that were tremendous. My favorite was a slow and subtle shift from one of his songs to "Hey Jude" from the Beatles. A guy behind us started humming the chorus, but I couldn't really make it out. After a few more seconds, it started to get clearer...and clearer until the entire crowd was singing the chorus: "Na, Na, Na Na Na Na, Na Na Na Na, Hey Jude!" It was one of the cooler things I've seen live in my entire life. His encore lasted just under an hour before he brought the house down with one of his greatest hits "Shake Everything You Got."

Sunday morning, we got breakfast from the little coffee shop on the corner near our apartment before Chris surfed again and I made a fool out of myself. The waves were smaller and I almost caught a couple waves. Shortly afterward, we went back to PB Shore Club around 3 o'clock in the afternoon for some "lunch" except lunch included several Dos Equis and a round of Patron shots. We headed back to Longboards before making our last stop at a place called Typhoon. Why we stopped there, I have no idea. I was hammered drunk at 7 p.m. and I think the boys weren't that far behind me. Rounds of Tequila shots were consumed and the girls quickly left us up to our own Shenanigans. I got home at 1 am on Monday morning, but not before making another stop at Ramiro's. Despite arguing with two jackasses over the quarterback of the Oakland Raiders in the 1970, we each had our burrito in hand and stumbled home. Halfway home, I channeled my inner Nick and threw my burrito in disgust at what, I'm not sure. I woke up Sunday morning with a terrible headache and a sore throat, coughing profusely. I intended to go to work but took some Nyquil by "accident" bid the boys adieu and slept all morning and afternoon. Waking up hungover and sick at the same time has to be one of god's best kept punishment secrets and man it's awful. I fully deserved it after the weekend that ensued. I haven't touched an alcoholic beverage since and I can't say i will again for a few more weeks.

Some words of wisdom I suggest you pass on to your children. There is a Nick inside all of us ladies and gentlemen just waiting to be sprung loose. Do whatever you can to get rid of it at an early age. A friend of your child's at some point in the future will wish you had and society (including a few newspaper stands) in general will be happy you did so.