The Boardwalk

June 23, 2008

Missed breakfast again this morning — these hotels make ’em too early.

We’re in Monterey today; going to wander around the bay here before making our way to Carmel tonight.

We left Mountain View yesterday morning, and after a lunch stop at Sizzler — per Justin’s request — we made our way down to Santa Cruz, about 35 miles away.

It was the perfect beach day and the weekend crowd was there in full force. We didn’t settle into a parking space and get to the boardwalk until about 2.

Since we have the whole week to enjoy the beach, we tried to keep ourselves out of the sun some yesterday, not to burn and to avoid the crowds.

Aside from its beaches, Santa Cruz particularly prides itself on its vibrant boardwalk, so we spent most of the afternoon there. For almost a full two hours, we screwed around in this big arcade, acting like kids who could play as many games as we wanted — from pinball and skee-ball, to cheesy games geared towards getting tickets. We all walked away winning a couple of shot glasses.

Afterwards, we wandered down the boardwalk, stopping off to play a few carnival games and ride the Giant Dipper, a rollercoaster built in 1924 that was really fun. As for old wooden rollercoasters though, I still think the Cyclone at Coney Island is more intense.

It was cool just hanging out on the boardwalk, which has been there since 1907.

Around 5, we walked towards the quaint, more yuppie downtown area to find dinner and catch the Cubs/White Sox game. We ended up at a place called 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall, which actually had 99 beers to choose from.

After a quick stop at Coldstone, we headed back to our car and made our way to Monterey, getting here at around 9:30. We had considered staying in Santa Cruz, but found that it was about half the price to stay in Monterey, about 45 miles down the coast.

The guidebook recommends a good sandwich place that we might try for lunch, as well as a few attractions, so we’ll see what we want to do. If we settle in Carmel tonight, we can spend Tuesday driving through Big Sur.

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Posted by Phil

Aaaaand that happened

June 23, 2008

I’m sure Phil will chime in with an actual reporting-type-update on yesterday’s shenanigans (he’s probably doing it right now) but I’d like to comment on some stuff that I’ve seen here on the West Coast so far from San Fran, up until yesterday on the Santa Cruz Boardwalk:

A) Homeless people

and

B) Boobs

A) These bums really aren’t messing around. San Francisco is probably only second in aggressive bums to Florence, which was overrun with dirty, crafty, gypsies. They’re not even presentable bums; they’re mostly dirty, crazy, drunk, and aren’t used to people totally ignoring them — as is our way in New York. This guy who looked like a cross between drunk Robin Williams and Flea accosted us whilst we were perusing the BART map and didn’t catch the many “fuck off” hints we were throwing him. A sample conversation:

Drunk Robin Williams: Where you guys going?
Bruer: ::awkward laugh:: We don’t really know yet.

DRW: ::incredulous raving:: HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW WHERE YOU’RE GOING? Why are you looking on a map? That’s silly.

Bruer: We’re going to look over here now ::group walks towards information booth::

DRW: WHAT? LIKE SHE’S GONNA KNOW WHERE YOU’RE GOING?

And that happened. The homeless situation of Santa Cruz seemed to be more laid back, probably because we kept walking by a methadone clinic. We did, however, see an almost confrontation between a very drunk (though perhaps not homeless) dude and a mall security guard, who was advancing with mace …

–omg, The Price is Right is on!–

… and nightstick drawn. We hightailed it out of there.

On the whole [that’s what she said], I can totally understand why these people settle here — it’s freakin’ beautiful and temperate, and probably really liberal (lots of hot chicks). Speaking of hot chicks:

B) Boobs:

Yesterday was like an onslaught of boobies. While entering Santa Cruz, everyone in the car was transfixed on a woman walking up the hill with a very low-slung shirt. I almost crashed the car. Then, whilst wandering the arcade with a Fosters and drawing nasty looks from parents adjacent to my position at skee-ball, there were hundreds and hundreds of women in bikinis, almost see-through t-shirts, and lots of hot moms.

At one point, Phil, Bruedog, and I went on this big old wooden rollercoaster and went to find Justin, who had sallied out of the whole experience. As we were walking away — actually, let me set the scene:

Justin and Bruer are sitting on a bench next to a mom in a bathing suit. She’s not a MILF, but definitely a looker ten years ago. Sitting on the backrest of the bench, the mom between his legs, is her husband, with their two youngish sons running around in front of them. As we get up to get away, I look back at the beach, the kids are a few yards away watching the rollercoaster. Slowly the husband’s hand starts traveling down his wife’s freckled chest, as if to brush away a fly. Then, much to my surprise, his hand disappears into her top, gives a tweak, and comes back out. I think I was the only person to witness that. It was like Midwest Moms Gone Wild.

Vacation does weird things to a person’s sense of propriety, I’ll tell you what.

Today we’re visiting a playground and eating sandwiches. Justin will be hiding his burned, Phantom of the Opera-type face from the sun.

Stay tuned for updates on the Double-Double Trouble-Trouble Burger Bout.

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Posted by Chris