Friday night in the city…..well not exactly the big apple…..as we are in Santa Cruz…..poised to leave our mark on the steamy, seedy haunts of a surf crowd gone wrong. We are ripe for adventure and some will be rewarded at midnight with a dip in the cesspool known as Kiva.

The evening begins at Callahans with pitchers and pitchers and the most elegant hashing attire I ever laid eyes on. I guess I did not get the memo. Who knew you could actually slink into a little black dress for this pub crawl. Darn it…………I could have worn my custom patent leather thigh high boots instead of my stinky sneakers. Next time please email me with the dress code.

Once the pack was sufficiently lubed up….they headed out to the mean streets of Santa Cruz and right through the middle of the homeless encampment. A quick stop for jello shots delivered like homeless meals from a big, blue Ikea shopping bag before the local “gendarmerie” indicated in a stern and forceful manner that we should move on.

Doesn’t he know that we are not your usual suspects, not your doped up street people. We are respectable drunks with day jobs and comfy beds to sleep in at night.

Guess not, so we move along peacefully to our next drinking establishment…..Rosie’s…..where even the old farts had to show an ID. I had to vouch for one of our Monterey Senior Citizens who alas did not have his ID on him. He was dressed in a toga with no pockets. A little too eager to get to Kiva I suppose.

There was a required pit stop at El Palomar with beer, margaritas and tacos galore.

I am sure there were other places along the way but I gracefully bowed out before the midnight hour.

I have no idea what happened at Kiva. Kinda like Vegas. Lips are zipped.

You will have to do your own investigation and interrogation if you want more dirt.

I need my beauty sleep as I have a big day of cornhole planned for Sat.

On On On

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