I hate Monterey
We went to Monterey last weekend to see a friend playing the lead in Urinetown. Great show. I wasn't expecting to like it, but I was pleasantly surprised.
So now that THAT's outta the way, I'm going to let loose. When I first heard about this weekend, the plan was to go with a group of friends. Great! I pictured one of those lovely resorts on the beach with the trees all leaning towards the surf... a late night sitting on the balcony drinking, smoking and laughing with everyone... shopping in Carmel on Sunday. Sigh.
Well... let me tell you that NONE of that came to pass. We stayed at a freakin' ECONOLODGE thanks to one of the attendees comments - "I'd really rather NOT have to spend 60 dollars for my share of a room." (Great. Then sleep in your fucking car.) Our room was 'bout this big, NO balcony... the door opened onto the PARKING LOT. It was a completely non-smoking Econo-fucking-lodge. It had a pool, but I never saw it. I can only imagine what it looked like - i'm sure a body was probably floating in it.
Dinner was at Montery Joe's - from their website: "...In fact, the counter seats place you front row center for seeing some insider preparation techniques that our chefs use to create our delicious cuisine." That would've been nice if they hadn't seated us in THE BAR where the bartender, who apparently was so concerned with making his evening's cash goal, hovered around our table the entire meal trying to ply us with alchohol. "I can make ANYthing!!! Sex on the Beach? Fuzzy Navel? Hairy Toes? I can do it!" I'm sorry... did we LOOK like Junior College students? And why would ANYONE dink anything called "Hairy Toes"????
After the show, we went to some bar that the cast frequented. It would've been charming except for the fact that it was packed to the rafters with college kids. 'nuff said. In a feeble attempt to try and salvage the evening, I had about one too many Absolute and Tonics. I discovered that I don't get drunk anymore. I get tired. Which, I guess, is a good thing when you're going to be sleeping in an Econolodge.
Sunday morning arrived with a torrential downpour. My hopes of a leisurely stroll through Carmel melted away and I just threw in the towel and said, "Take me home."
Monterey. Feh. Who needs it?
So now that THAT's outta the way, I'm going to let loose. When I first heard about this weekend, the plan was to go with a group of friends. Great! I pictured one of those lovely resorts on the beach with the trees all leaning towards the surf... a late night sitting on the balcony drinking, smoking and laughing with everyone... shopping in Carmel on Sunday. Sigh.
Well... let me tell you that NONE of that came to pass. We stayed at a freakin' ECONOLODGE thanks to one of the attendees comments - "I'd really rather NOT have to spend 60 dollars for my share of a room." (Great. Then sleep in your fucking car.) Our room was 'bout this big, NO balcony... the door opened onto the PARKING LOT. It was a completely non-smoking Econo-fucking-lodge. It had a pool, but I never saw it. I can only imagine what it looked like - i'm sure a body was probably floating in it.
Dinner was at Montery Joe's - from their website: "...In fact, the counter seats place you front row center for seeing some insider preparation techniques that our chefs use to create our delicious cuisine." That would've been nice if they hadn't seated us in THE BAR where the bartender, who apparently was so concerned with making his evening's cash goal, hovered around our table the entire meal trying to ply us with alchohol. "I can make ANYthing!!! Sex on the Beach? Fuzzy Navel? Hairy Toes? I can do it!" I'm sorry... did we LOOK like Junior College students? And why would ANYONE dink anything called "Hairy Toes"????
After the show, we went to some bar that the cast frequented. It would've been charming except for the fact that it was packed to the rafters with college kids. 'nuff said. In a feeble attempt to try and salvage the evening, I had about one too many Absolute and Tonics. I discovered that I don't get drunk anymore. I get tired. Which, I guess, is a good thing when you're going to be sleeping in an Econolodge.
Sunday morning arrived with a torrential downpour. My hopes of a leisurely stroll through Carmel melted away and I just threw in the towel and said, "Take me home."
Monterey. Feh. Who needs it?
posted by Shuboy at 5:31 PM
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