Last weekend, I got a sudden urge and decided to pack (way too much and the problem with that, is unpacking sucks) put Teddy Brewski with his friends at day/night camp (I swear he has more friends than I do) and drive down to Huntington Beach for the US Open of Surfing.
No one told me that I should not leave LA proper after 2:00PM because it would take me two and a half hours to get to the beach in traffic. But, so what? I am a great DJ and I knew there were clean beaches, sun, and surfers in my future –oh, and a few drinks. Also, the hotel failed to notice that the street directly in front was closed to traffic both ways so when I pulled up it took me an extra 45 minutes to find where the Valet were hiding. It would be a good thing for the hotel to know the road was closed but I attribute this to the overwhelming sun exposure and availability and abundance of liquor in the plethora of bars in Huntington Beach. It is not their fault (kinda).
When I got to the hotel – I met a friend for dinner and decided to call it an early night. It was 10:30PM as I headed back to my room to “chillax” when I turned the corner and spied a young guy sprawled out on the floor in the hallway near my room. It shocked me for a second and I really hoped that he did not lose his dinner right in my entry because I just ate. But, upon approaching him more closely I could not help but notice hundred dollar bills, his ID, credit cards, wallet, and all his worldly possessions surrounding him as if he got in a fight with his wallet and lost – BADLY. So, I bent down and said “Hi –you know you have money all over the place. All your stuff is everywhere. Are you OK?” he sat up and replied, “Yes, I am fine but why are you screaming?” and laid back down. This seemed normal enough (in my life) so, I kept walking and opened my door. My little friend must have been holding office hours in the hallway because I heard his phone ring and he answered “Hi Rosa. What’s up?” and continued to chat. I ran into my room – #420 (seriously). The next morning, my friend was gone but he left a pair of white socks in the hallway as a memento.
The next day, I walked down to the pier with a million and one “eleventeen” (Thanks Green) year olds wearing nothing but bathing suits. Apparently, now it is OK to wear thong, string bikinis with no shoes (not even flip and flop) when you are not even old enough to operate an automobile. So weird? At least put on a pair of shorts ladies! I know you live at the beach and so does everyone else but clothes like to be worn.
I guess I saw so many people lose their shoes that I decided to play the game too (but not on purpose). Let’s just say, some very strong Long Island Ice Teas flew out of the bars directly into my mouth! Can you believe it? Me neither. They were aggressive too. So much that I gave a nice young man named Ken my number (only it was my mom’s cell phone number). Why? I think it is because I dial her number more than my own and at the time the Long Islands told me to do so. Too bad my mom answered the phone and she and Ken had a little chat. So, Ken if you are reading this. Sorry – if you are cute, email me. Oh and sorry Mom :(.
That night was fun but this is the part where someone may have thought I got in a fight with my own purse. I could not recall where it was for the life of me! Let’s just say I was a bit confused so I call my poor mom at 10PMish frantic that I can’t find my purse, shoes, phone, and everything else! We are freaking out when there is a knock at the door – thankfully my girlfriend had everything but my shoes. There must be a shoe monster in Huntington Beach. Poor mom again – but she had to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. She is a good sport and was just happy that I was OK :).
You probably want to know about surfing. Well, I didn’t really see anything – at all. Surfing is weird and if the waves are not there, neither is the surfing. So Saturday was a bust in that sense. But, I did enjoy the beach (with a million other people), a few more Long Islands and my phone decided to take a dip in olive oil. It is thoroughly marinated and the speaker does not work.
I decided to leave early on Sunday because I could not drink anymore, was running out of shoes, phone was almost done marinating and wanted to miss the traffic. I guess that was not the only thing I missed? Apparently, the night before got a little rowdy in the hotel. I did think it was odd that on Sunday morning everyone was talking about the police and how the stairs to the hotel were being cleaned because they were covered with blood. Before getting my suitcase to leave, I rode up the elevator with a man in clothes from the night before and I know this because he smelled like Jack. Judging by his fresh bright blue cast, cotton ball makeshift band aid, huge gash on his eye and him telling me that he hates the cops, I concluded it would be better to leave before Sunday got underway because things were starting to get a little crazy at the beach. Apparently, the Saturday night mayhem was mild compared to what happened Sunday after I left. Unfortunately, there was a huge riot after the Open Sunday night. Too bad a bunch of drunken thugs and teenagers have to ruin a good time for everyone else. I am happy to have missed the riot but bummed that was how the closing of the tournament turned out. Why can’t more people pass out friendly in the hallway?
Melany’s Guydlines #52 – When approaching a drunken man in a hallway at a hotel – DON’T YELL and bring extra shoes to the beach! Tweet MG guydlinePowered by Sidelines
**Stay snarky my friends!**