Universal Booze-dios

Amigos, I have been absent. (And since today is Cinco de Mayo, I have a little bit of the salsa going on. Deal with it.) Has it been ten days already? Si? My apologies.

I will tell you what I've been spending most of my time doing, but not just yet. Next time. Right now I want to tell you what I did over the weekend.

We jumped in the Corvette and took a road trip south to Universal Studios! I know I just got finished saying that we couldn't do anything like that for a while, but I'm pretty sure my words to Jason were that we had to wait until "next month." And he held me to my word by waiting a whole five days for April to turn into May, that tricky boy.

As it turns out, Universal Studios is kind of boring. And I got wet four times--three of which were not watery attractions. Getting wet when you're not expecting and/or intending to is annoying. But I was amused by the Japanese tourists wearing surgical masks (to, I assume, avoid the swine flu that we dirty Americans are all spreading around).

It wasn't until after we left the park that the real fun began. See, right outside Universal Studios is the Universal CityWalk, a cluster of restaurants and stores and flashing lights. We had dinner at Wolfgang Puck L.A. Bistro, then moseyed over to Saddle Ranch Chop House for dessert (Jason) and a drink (me).

This is where things started to get interesting. To set the scene, Saddle Ranch is the kind of establishment that has two mechanical bulls and the waitstaff's dress code is Western Skank. I ordered the Texas Tea Party, their version of a Long Island iced tea. I was presented with a jug of booze that, at any other establishment, would have come with straws for several people. Our waiter told me that it was at least 28 ounces--well more than half of which consisted of alcohol. I told Jason I was glad that I already had dinner in me. He wondered aloud how on Earth I was going to drink all of that and remain ambulatory. Homeslice underestimates me.

While I'm sucking it down, some guys with guitars start making the rounds to each table, playing whatever song the people wanted to hear. They played some Journey for the bachelorette party nearby, which I sang along to at the top of my lungs. Then they hit our table. I was too far along in my liquor to think to request New Kids on the Block, so Jason requested punk rock. They played a song to which I vaguely knew the chorus lyrics, so I sang that, too. Jason told me I somehow managed to sing the right notes the whole time. Then our waiter came over to tell us that since we were his first table of the night, he was going to bring us over some shots on the house. We drained those and I emptied my jug o'booze.

Jason had ordered a beer with dinner, so after the shot he wasn't sure he wanted to drive three hours home. We (well, he) decided to take a walk around to see what the hotels cost (I just laughed at everything he said). We ended up retrieving the car and driving around the corner when we were stopped in our tracks by steep declines and fences. In my inebriated state, this was SO HILARIOUS. We rolled into the L.A./Universal City Hilton, which gave Jason a steep discount for being active duty military.

Up in our room, Jason hopped in the shower and I played with all the fun toys I could find, including the earthquake instructions. They would have been funny to me sober, but that night they were THE BEST THING I had ever read. I'm pretty sure I didn't have any pants on in this picture.

By the time I got around to playing with the shower cap, I didn't have any clothes on at all. I know, my life is so scandalous.

After Jason's shower we found our way down to the hotel bar, where he had some fruity little drink and I had a mojito. Compared to Saddle Ranch, the hotel bar was a snooze-fest, so we went back to our room. We considered raiding the mini-bar, but thought better of it and went to bed.

The whole time I couldn't help but feel like we were on some wonderfully Fitzgeraldian bender like Gloria and Anthony from The Beautiful and Damned. I'm a literary snob even while drunk. I think F. Scott would approve.

The next morning while enjoying the insanely gorgeous view of the pool nine stories below and the Hollywood hills looming above, we noticed that the Vivid Entertainment Group office was right across the street (it's the blue-ish building on the bottom left). I have no real reason for telling you this, I just feel like it's worth mentioning.

We had breakfast at the Hilton brunch buffet, where I ate two plates towering with fresh fruit. It was heavenly. If this is what California weekends are like, count me in.

Except for the part where I kept getting wet.