Recently, I visited the fine city of sunny San Diego to visit my sister who has lived there since her college years began 10 years ago. I have visited the city several times, but the visits have primarily consisted of attending my sister’s graduation or wedding or going to Sea World to pet the bat rays. This time around, one of the first San Diego-related activities I took part in was visiting the world famous San Diego Zoo. Highlights of the visit included seeing a giant mother panda laying on her back while gorging herself on bamboo and watching a hippo, after a lengthy period of doing absolutely nothing, spring up out of the water and shoot water out of its enormous mouth. After the zoo, it was on to Petco Park to see the San Diego Padres play the New York Mets in a game that went into extra innings. After 14 innings and two seventh-inning-stretches, it was off to the bars where I found out, to my utter dismay, that the birth date on my driver’s license has become defunct. The 5 in the 1985 section of the date has somehow morphed into a very 6ish looking 5 which caused much consternation and in some cases genuine rage amongst the San Diego bar ID checkers. Nevertheless, a good time was had by all and the next day we headed off to Mexico.My sister had recommended that we go to a town just outside of Tijuana that, when we got there, appeared to have been set up for the sole purpose of selling lobster to tourists. We settled on a small restaurant with a view of the ocean and I must say that the lobster we were served was the best I’ve ever had. This was due in large part to the fact that the lobster had been opened for me and all I had to do was reach in with a fork and pull out the meat. I have spent my previous experiences with lobster clawing and fighting to crack open the lobster shell and then inevitably resigning myself to eating gobs of greenish, lobster-intestine-slime, which, thankfully, I was able to avoid doing on my latest lobster adventure. After the lobster, we headed to another bar that, unlike the previous ones we had visited the night before, was inhabited entirely by Southern California frat boys and sorority ladies. Aside from feeling most uncomfortable the entire time at the bar, the only other notable occurrence came when I ventured into the bathroom and was fortunate enough to overhear a conversation between two of the aforementioned frat boys. The conversation went something like this:Frat Boy One: "Hey, I saw your ‘girlfriend’ Vanessa last night."Frat Boy Two: Yeah She’s a dumb whore."Frat Boy One: "Yeah, total whore … Ola!"Classy! And with that, my trip to San Diego came to a close. Those interested in creating their own San Diego experience should visit this website.
A Special Message From The San Diego Visitors Bureau
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