Road Trip, Part 5
Friday, April 27th
Santa Cruz - Where Everything's Better When You're High, Man
We began the day in San Francisco at a nearby diner. Nothing like getting up in the morning and having a greasy breakfast. From there, we walked a couple of blocks to the flagship store for Macy's West. The store is so big, it needs a separate store across the street just for Men's Furnishings. Having worked for the company, I guess I felt it was obligatory to check out the store.
5 minutes later, the obligation was complete, and we could finally leave for Santa Cruz. But, what was only supposed to be a ninety minute drive turned into about a 3 hour drive since we took a detour (i.e. drove the opposite way) to check out the Berkeley campus. It's built on the side of a hill, so commuting looks like it would be a bitch, but it did look like it'd be a fun campus. Although we didn't see any naked guys walking around.
We got into Santa Cruz around 3pm or so. This was the first night that we wouldn't be staying in one of the timeshares provided for by Wac's parents, so the accomodations weren't what we were used to (i.e. a flat screen TV and the absence of ants in the bathroom). But what it lacked in luxury, it made up for in convenience; we were walking distance to the beach AND a taco shack. Since we haven't had good mexican food since what seemed like the dawn of man, we stopped there first. For $12, we got a veggie burrito, three tacos, two sides of rice, and what must have been a pony keg of Pepsi. Of course, the tacos had shredded PARMESAN cheese on them, but they were still the best tacos I've had since September.
(Seriously though, who puts parmesan on a taco? I could see someone in Amsterdam or New Hampshire doing this, but in Santa Cruz? Really? Even the fucking name is Spanish, and you can't even do cheddar? Such a travesty. But cheese is cheese, and any cheese is better than none.)
We then went to the beach where I promptly proceeded to bury my leg in the sand. I'm still 12 years old at heart, and for someone who didn't grow up near a beach, it's a treat anytime I go. If the water wasn't 40-something degrees, I would have been in faster than you can say "poop".
Later that night, we went to downtown Santa Cruz, which for you folks back home in AZ, is basically like Mill Avenue. Except more people under 21. Once the sun goes down, it doesn't look like there's much to do in this town except go downtown. And it seems like the population is 2\3 college kids and 1\3 beach bum, so EVERYONE goes downtown. But, through the swarms of freshman and skater kids (Santa Cruz really seems like a misplaced suburb of San Diego), we were able to find a decent sushi place.
We ordered a couple of different kinds of rolls, including an awesome crab roll that was stuffed with jalapeno and drizzled with a teriyaki style barbecue sauce. And, they accidentally made a second order, which they gave to us for free. SCORE!
(It was right after this that we probably had our worse experience of the trip. Walking back to the car, we crossed paths with a bum close to our age. Right away, he noticed the styrofoam container and asked "You don't want to carry those leftovers all the way back to your car, do you?" Somewhat sarcastically, I replied "I really don't have to walk that far, so it's OK". As he was walking away, Wac heard him say "It doesn't look like you need it anyways." Motherfucker just called me fat! It's not like I don't know this, but I don't need this prick stating the obvious. I don't know what I would have done if I heard it in time, probably nothing, but after dealing with the guy in San Francisco, as well as the handful of bums I had already walked past earlier in the night, I was in no mood to deal with it. Oh well, he was just probably jealous because of my figure. It takes years to get the kind of curves I got!)
The next day, we packed up some sammiches and headed back down to beach, where I proceeded to bury both legs into the sand this time. I also worked up enough nerve to walk into the water up to my waist. I didn't last too long though; man, that shit was COLD. I tried to get a suntan, but it probably takes a couple days in the sun to tan my pale ass. Plus, as Wac pointed out after it was too late, "if you want to get a suntan, then don't put so much lotion on your arms!"
Obviously, I'm no expert at tanning.
After a late lunch at the Santa Cruz Diner, a place that Wac has to stop at every time (and rightfully so. I mean, any diner that has a menu so big that it serves Pho is a winner in my book), we drove around Santa Cruz until we found UC Santa Cruz. Had Wac not attended SPU, she probably would have attended UCSC instead. Instead of attending a Christian school, she would have gone to a college in a city that decriminalizes marijuana more than any other city in the U.S. I wonder how she would have turned out?
Anyways, the campus in SC is basically the opposite of ASU. Instead of (mostly) all the buildings in walking distance of each other, the buildings here are all spread out, located either in the fields or in the forest. Instead of watching out for sluts not paying attention to anything but their cellphone, you have to watch our for deer. Otherwise, a pretty decent little school.
By the time we got back to the room, it was dinner time. Rather than face the hordes of surfers and beggars walking around downtown, we decided to order some pizza (and what ended up later being a $6 six-pack of root beer. Fuckers charged by the can!), watched a movie, and prepared ourselves for our next stop....Napa Valley!
OK, so you're probably asking yourselves where the cupcakes are at in this story. When we stopped at a gas station on the way out of SC, lo and behold, I found my orange cupcakes again! Although this time, there wasn't just one package, there were at least 6 of them. I seriously contemplated buying up all of them, but I just went for one of them. I can get them online if I want (BTW...my birthday is August 16th. I'm just sayin, that's all). But I guess it makes sense. If I lived in Santa Cruz, I'd be getting stoned all the time too, and what better way to cure the munchies than some Hostess Orange Cupcakes.
Next time on "Nothing Special, Really"...will Matt & Wac get trapped in the amazingness that it California Wine Country?
Santa Cruz - Where Everything's Better When You're High, Man
We began the day in San Francisco at a nearby diner. Nothing like getting up in the morning and having a greasy breakfast. From there, we walked a couple of blocks to the flagship store for Macy's West. The store is so big, it needs a separate store across the street just for Men's Furnishings. Having worked for the company, I guess I felt it was obligatory to check out the store.
5 minutes later, the obligation was complete, and we could finally leave for Santa Cruz. But, what was only supposed to be a ninety minute drive turned into about a 3 hour drive since we took a detour (i.e. drove the opposite way) to check out the Berkeley campus. It's built on the side of a hill, so commuting looks like it would be a bitch, but it did look like it'd be a fun campus. Although we didn't see any naked guys walking around.
We got into Santa Cruz around 3pm or so. This was the first night that we wouldn't be staying in one of the timeshares provided for by Wac's parents, so the accomodations weren't what we were used to (i.e. a flat screen TV and the absence of ants in the bathroom). But what it lacked in luxury, it made up for in convenience; we were walking distance to the beach AND a taco shack. Since we haven't had good mexican food since what seemed like the dawn of man, we stopped there first. For $12, we got a veggie burrito, three tacos, two sides of rice, and what must have been a pony keg of Pepsi. Of course, the tacos had shredded PARMESAN cheese on them, but they were still the best tacos I've had since September.
(Seriously though, who puts parmesan on a taco? I could see someone in Amsterdam or New Hampshire doing this, but in Santa Cruz? Really? Even the fucking name is Spanish, and you can't even do cheddar? Such a travesty. But cheese is cheese, and any cheese is better than none.)
We then went to the beach where I promptly proceeded to bury my leg in the sand. I'm still 12 years old at heart, and for someone who didn't grow up near a beach, it's a treat anytime I go. If the water wasn't 40-something degrees, I would have been in faster than you can say "poop".
Later that night, we went to downtown Santa Cruz, which for you folks back home in AZ, is basically like Mill Avenue. Except more people under 21. Once the sun goes down, it doesn't look like there's much to do in this town except go downtown. And it seems like the population is 2\3 college kids and 1\3 beach bum, so EVERYONE goes downtown. But, through the swarms of freshman and skater kids (Santa Cruz really seems like a misplaced suburb of San Diego), we were able to find a decent sushi place.
We ordered a couple of different kinds of rolls, including an awesome crab roll that was stuffed with jalapeno and drizzled with a teriyaki style barbecue sauce. And, they accidentally made a second order, which they gave to us for free. SCORE!
(It was right after this that we probably had our worse experience of the trip. Walking back to the car, we crossed paths with a bum close to our age. Right away, he noticed the styrofoam container and asked "You don't want to carry those leftovers all the way back to your car, do you?" Somewhat sarcastically, I replied "I really don't have to walk that far, so it's OK". As he was walking away, Wac heard him say "It doesn't look like you need it anyways." Motherfucker just called me fat! It's not like I don't know this, but I don't need this prick stating the obvious. I don't know what I would have done if I heard it in time, probably nothing, but after dealing with the guy in San Francisco, as well as the handful of bums I had already walked past earlier in the night, I was in no mood to deal with it. Oh well, he was just probably jealous because of my figure. It takes years to get the kind of curves I got!)
The next day, we packed up some sammiches and headed back down to beach, where I proceeded to bury both legs into the sand this time. I also worked up enough nerve to walk into the water up to my waist. I didn't last too long though; man, that shit was COLD. I tried to get a suntan, but it probably takes a couple days in the sun to tan my pale ass. Plus, as Wac pointed out after it was too late, "if you want to get a suntan, then don't put so much lotion on your arms!"
Obviously, I'm no expert at tanning.
After a late lunch at the Santa Cruz Diner, a place that Wac has to stop at every time (and rightfully so. I mean, any diner that has a menu so big that it serves Pho is a winner in my book), we drove around Santa Cruz until we found UC Santa Cruz. Had Wac not attended SPU, she probably would have attended UCSC instead. Instead of attending a Christian school, she would have gone to a college in a city that decriminalizes marijuana more than any other city in the U.S. I wonder how she would have turned out?
Anyways, the campus in SC is basically the opposite of ASU. Instead of (mostly) all the buildings in walking distance of each other, the buildings here are all spread out, located either in the fields or in the forest. Instead of watching out for sluts not paying attention to anything but their cellphone, you have to watch our for deer. Otherwise, a pretty decent little school.
By the time we got back to the room, it was dinner time. Rather than face the hordes of surfers and beggars walking around downtown, we decided to order some pizza (and what ended up later being a $6 six-pack of root beer. Fuckers charged by the can!), watched a movie, and prepared ourselves for our next stop....Napa Valley!
OK, so you're probably asking yourselves where the cupcakes are at in this story. When we stopped at a gas station on the way out of SC, lo and behold, I found my orange cupcakes again! Although this time, there wasn't just one package, there were at least 6 of them. I seriously contemplated buying up all of them, but I just went for one of them. I can get them online if I want (BTW...my birthday is August 16th. I'm just sayin, that's all). But I guess it makes sense. If I lived in Santa Cruz, I'd be getting stoned all the time too, and what better way to cure the munchies than some Hostess Orange Cupcakes.
Next time on "Nothing Special, Really"...will Matt & Wac get trapped in the amazingness that it California Wine Country?
posted by Matt at
5:10 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home