As you all know, I welcomed my first set of visitors this past weekend. I was so excited to have them here so you can only imagine my heartache when I found out that two of the girls were going to miss their connecting flight and had to spend the first night at a hotel outside of the Los Angeles Airport out of all places. Luckily, they arrived early Friday morning looking slightly disheveled and dare I say dirty having not been able to shower or change clothes since the previous morning. As true friends do, they rallied and despite the delay in travel managed to have a kick-ass, self-serve yogurt filled weekend.
Ever since we spent a weekend down at the Jersey Shore during one summer break in college, we have taken a liking to purchasing flashy t-shirts from giftshops. This weekend was no different. We left the Pacific Beach boardwalk Saturday afternoon with a coffee mug in the shape of a pair of boobs, magnets and four purple t-shirts with neon painted palms trees with the words "San Diego" written down the side. The shirts may have been 100 percent polyester which probably explains why this rash I have isn't any better and they may have smelt faintly like a damp basement but they were by far the coolest shirts...ever.
After too many Sweet Tea Vodka and waters and intense games of Catchphrase later, we realized it was too late to take a cab downtown and wait in some line just to get our groove on. We called my old buddy Mohammed to pick us up in his blue cab and take us to the bar down the street where a 90's alternative cover band was rocking out. But not without our t-shirts. Yes, Annie, Jackie, Brenna an myself changed out of our bar appropriate ensembles and into our Gem resembling purple shirts. In Brenna's case, she decided it was okay to leave the pants behind and wear her leggings which made an appearance every day of her trip.
The moment we stepped into the bar, people stared. We knew we needed to come up with an MO stat. The initial question we were asked was always, "are you guys on a pub crawl." The reasonable response would have been "yes" and then quickly escape the conversation before any more lies spewed out. We chose not to take the reasonable route and opted to continue with our lie and claim that we were on a pub crawl to celebrate Brenna's engagement to her fake fiance Peter. Minus the fact that she didn't have an engagement ring to show as a proof point, the obvious response was of course to say that she wasn't engaged yet and that she found the ring by accident hence our premature celebration. Right, ok. Everyone at the bar was drunk enough to buy our story including the lead singer of the band who congratulated Brenna on her engagement and followed-up with a "here's to one dick your whole life," cheers. Something tells me the "Mr.Eddy Vedder wannabe" singer is not a huge fan of monogamy considering we caught him doing the walk of shame on the boardwalk with a fellow bar-mate the next day.
The purple party people (as we deemed ourselves) had to party down eventually and thus our weekend of alter-ego debauchery came to a close. It was so great seeing you girls and it means so much that you took the time (and money) to come see me in my new home. What Happens in San Diego Stays in San Diego, unless of course you post a Facebook album, and it's fair to say that you made your mark on this town- purple shirts and all.
Quote of the weekend: As said by Brenna, "I am dressed like a lesbian." In her defense, she really was. Love you ladies!
Posts
