Rancho Santa Fe, CA Day 2

Nick: Rod was off being productive (I think he works at a hospital or something) and so Brian and I decided not to be until he came back home around noon. Harmony and balance. Due to the lousy weather, fishing seemed like our most viable outdoor activity. Due to the lousy weather, the pond was so murky we never got so much as a bite despite being out there for at least four hours. Time flies though, when you've got your box wine. I did manage to loose about six lures, but I don't think there's any relation between the two. We packed it in, headed back, and started to get warmed up for the evening's festivities.




Brian: Ha, I was getting warmed up while we fished. Our first stop on Rod's recommendation was a pool hall/sports bar type of place that was all but dead on a Monday night. There was a dude that claimed to be a Marine but was built more like a seal, and not the Navy kind. Also there were two beautiful women playing pool that Rod was able to drive directly into Nick and my arms with his awesome drunken game of telling them that they are, "The meanest girls he's ever met," over and over again. We escorted Rod out and caught a cab to a bar called Q's in the nearby town of Encinitas where everyone was at least 5'11". I stepped outside to grab a breath of fresh cigarette and bought an egg roll from what could be barely called a street vendor. More like a tiny Vietnamese lady with a foil-lined picnic basket.

Nick: Isn't that, like, the definition of a street vendor? I was dancing up a storm when Brian ran up to me raving about something that was outside, and how I had to come out. When I'd struggled through the jungle of Amazon women and made my way outdoors, Brian was standing there with no less than five of these rolls. Those of you that know Brian personally know that he's not one given to make excessive purchases. I knew they must be good. Wrong! Twinkies are good. Hot dogs are good. These delicate, delectable delicacies from the East were outrageously delicious. Crispy, golden brown with an explosion of different flavors at just the right temperature. Good thing too, as the cab right back might have put me in a bad mood. Not because of the company: our driver, Nassir, was a stand up guy from Tehran with interesting perspectives on the world's happenings. No, the cab ride would have put me in a bad mood because despite being no more than a twenty minute ride, it was no less than sixty dollars once tax and tip had been accounted for. This might be a good time to remind our readers that we do, in fact, accept donations. Brian and Nick are over and out of cash.