Katie and I have a saying that we use whenever one of us does something stupid.
Actually, that’s not entirely accurate.
We use it when both of us do something stupid.
We usually just look at each other and say:
“We’re a couple of dumb animals.”
Most of the time it’s after something minor.
A forgotten item.
A wrong turn.
Some questionable decision-making.
Then there was San Diego.
By the end of that trip, we weren’t asking whether we were dumb animals anymore.
We were asking a much more important question.
Who’s watching us?
After making the trip to Texas in 2023 and finally getting to add a couple of stickers to our baseball stadium poster, Katie and I were eager to follow the Mariners to another ballpark.
Looking at the 2024 schedule, we settled on San Diego.
It was close.
The weather is always beautiful.
And we had visited briefly years before and knew we needed to spend more time in the Gaslamp Quarter.
For those who haven’t been there, the Gaslamp Quarter is packed with restaurants, bars, hotels, and just enough opportunities to make questionable decisions.
Petco Park sits right in the middle of it all.
What could possibly go wrong?
The Mariners were only scheduled to play a two-game series against the Padres on Tuesday and Wednesday. Since that wasn’t nearly enough San Diego for us, we decided to fly in on Sunday and spend a couple of days exploring before the game.
We arrived early and made our way to the Margaritaville Hotel, which was conveniently located only a few blocks from Petco Park.
It was far too early to check into our room, so we did what any reasonable adults would do after starting the day drinking at SeaTac around six in the morning.
We headed straight to the LandShark Bar & Grill, which is basically the lobby bar, because we all know how important it is to stay hydrated.
Katie and I both ordered a double tall vodka Red Bull.
The young waitress looked completely confused.
If I told you we spent several minutes explaining “tall glass, ice, two shots of vodka, fill the rest with Red Bull,” you’d probably think I was exaggerating.
I’m not.
She left.
Came back.
Verified the order.
Left again.
Talked to the bartender.
Came back again.
About fifteen minutes later she proudly delivered one drink.
I reminded her we had actually ordered two.
After she hustled off to fix that problem, Katie took a sip of the first drink.
Her face immediately twisted up.
It was essentially straight vodka with a splash of Red Bull.
I tried it myself and confirmed she was correct.
The second drink eventually arrived.
Unfortunately, it was apparently made from whatever Red Bull had been left in the can and almost no vodka.
We combined the two drinks and did our best to create one normal beverage.
The trip was off to a promising start.
From there we wandered over to Petco Park and grabbed tickets for that day’s Padres game so we could explore the stadium before the Mariners game later in the week.
Petco immediately jumped near the top of our favorite stadium list. The weather was perfect, the atmosphere was fantastic, and the ballpark sits right in the heart of everything happening downtown.
It was one of those places that instantly felt special.
Unfortunately, what neither of us remember is getting back to the hotel.
Or checking in.
Or getting our luggage.
Or getting to the room.
Or going to sleep.
The next morning we woke up with pounding heads and more questions than answers.
My knee had also decided this was the perfect time to completely stop cooperating.
At the time I didn’t know a knee replacement was in my future.
I only knew that walking was becoming a serious problem.
As we left our room that morning, we both stood in the hallway staring blankly.
Neither of us could remember whether we needed to turn left or right to reach the elevator.
We stood there for several seconds.
Then started laughing.
I finally looked at Katie and said:
“We need to have someone come with us to watch us because we obviously can’t do that for ourselves.”
After heading the wrong direction and walking past our room again, we finally located the elevator.
Still laughing, we headed downstairs and walked past the front desk.
The gentleman working there smiled.
“Nice to see you again.”
Apparently he had been the unlucky soul who checked us in the night before.
We went directly to breakfast and tried to piece together the missing hours.
Neither of us could.
Meanwhile, my knee was getting worse.
A trip to CVS produced a knee brace, but it wasn’t the miracle I was hoping for.
We had talked about taking a cruise to Coronado Island that day and spending more time exploring the city.
Instead, I spent most of the afternoon feeling guilty that I was ruining the trip.
Katie adapted better than I did.
She headed up to the rooftop pool area and settled into vacation mode while I rested.
Later that afternoon I joined her.
It turned out to be one of my favorite spots in the hotel.
Good drinks.
Good views.
Relaxed atmosphere.
And very little walking.
The next morning was game day.
My knee wasn’t much better, but I knew I needed to step it up.
Pun fully intended.
We spent the afternoon wandering through the Gaslamp Quarter, grabbing food, drinks, and exploring whatever looked interesting.
Eventually we found ourselves back at Bub’s at the Ballpark, which had quickly become one of our favorite places in San Diego.
There were Padres fans.
Mariners fans.
Cold drinks.
Good conversation.
The perfect pregame atmosphere.
Before long we headed into Petco.
Because we had already visited earlier in the trip, we knew exactly where to go.
We had splurged a little and bought seats behind home plate with access to the Lexus Lounge.
Before exploring the lounge, I wanted to find our seats.
Katie needed the restroom first.
That decision would prove important.
A few minutes later we were trying to show our tickets when Katie suddenly announced:
“I can’t find my phone.”
We had been inside the stadium less than ten minutes.
Fortunately, someone had found it in the restroom and turned it into Guest Services.
Disaster avoided.
Or so we thought.
The game itself was fantastic.
The Mariners won.
Cal hit a home run.
Katie got shushed by a woman sitting in front of us after celebrating.
Let’s just say that relationship never recovered.
By the end of the game, I was plenty buzzed, my knee was screaming, and Katie was struggling to walk in a straight line.
Somehow, on one fully functional leg, I ended up helping her back to the hotel, pinballing our way there.
It took us roughly thirty minutes to travel two blocks.
We eventually made it.
I collapsed onto the bed.
A few hours until our flight.
Victory.
Then Katie looked at me.
“Where’s my phone?”
No.
Absolutely not.
Not again.
After a quick search, I called her phone.
Guest Services answered.
Back to Petco I went.
It’s after midnight.
I’m limping through downtown San Diego in flip-flops with a bad knee, trying to locate Guest Services.
I call the phone for directions.
Katie answers, crying.
On her watch.
I tell her not to answer.
I call again.
Katie answers again.
Still crying.
Still apologizing.
Third call.
Katie answers again.
At this point I told her to “TAKE THE WATCH OFF AND THROW THE M FER ACROSS THE ROOM!”
Eventually I got the phone back.
And somewhere during that walk back to the hotel I started laughing.
Because the truth was becoming impossible to ignore.
We were two middle-aged adults acting like college freshmen on their first trip away from home.
The next morning we boarded our flight back to Seattle.
Neither of us felt good enough for airport mimosas.
That should tell you everything you need to know.
After landing, I grabbed my phone from the seat pocket in front of me and waved it at Katie.
“Don’t forget your phone.”
She rolled her eyes.
We got off the plane.
Hit the restrooms.
Started heading toward baggage claim.
Then I stopped.
“Katie…”
“Yeah?”
“Where’s my phone?”
She laughed.
I wasn’t joking.
It wasn’t in my pocket.
It wasn’t in my backpack.
She called it.
Our flight attendant answered.
I had actually pulled the phone from the seat pocket, made a joke about not forgetting it, and then immediately put it back before leaving the plane.
After retrieving my phone, we finally made our way toward baggage claim.
Before getting on the tram I looked over at Katie and asked the same question I’d asked at the hotel after we couldn’t find the elevator.
“Who’s watching us?”
🍻📱⚾😂
Katie’s Korner – San Diego
Brian is correct. We generally do say, “We’re a couple of dumb animals.”
He failed to mention that he is usually the responsible one. I say usually because if he ever declares that IT IS HIS DAY (which happens once or twice a year), watch out. The storm is coming, and he will absolutely make a day of it.
For the most part, though, he’s fun but responsible.
Not in San Diego.
Yikes.
At some point during that first night, the night we still can’t explain how we got to our room, Brian had enough wits about him to record a video of me trying to get my jacket out of my suitcase.
The key word there is trying.
The struggle was real.
The only unfortunate parts of the trip were that it wasn’t long enough, the party pooper at the game, and the fact that Brian’s knee was a complete mess.
I felt bad for him because I knew he felt guilty about not being able to do more, but I made the most of it and got some quality pool time in while he rested.
The day of the Mariners game, we bounced around to several different places. We had incredible poke nachos at one spot and oyster shooters at another fancy-pants restaurant, but the real winner was Bubs.
Oh, how I wish I lived down the street from Bubs, although my kidneys and waistline would probably disagree.
A great bar, good music, tons of conversation, and meeting the locals is exactly our speed.
This is where us Beavers really shine.
Petco Park is my favorite place to watch a game besides T-Mobile Park, obviously.
It’s a beautiful stadium in a vibrant part of town where it’s nearly impossible to have a bad time.
Unless you’re the sourpuss sitting in front of me.
Speaking of that, I’m usually a pretty kind person who tends to over-apologize.
Not that day.
That lady got the full, over-the-top, having-an-amazing-time Katie.
I definitely made a Mariners hater out of her.
I loved every minute of it.
Another nice thing about Petco is that the Guest Services staff are incredibly kind and helpful.
Trust me, I would know.
You don’t lose your phone twice in a matter of hours without getting familiar with the staff.
At least that’s what I’m going with.
Brian was a tad irritated when I kept answering my watch while he was hobbling back to the stadium to retrieve my phone.
At the time, I was a mess because I felt terrible that he had to do that for me.
Now?
Every time I think about him yelling at me through my watch, I start laughing.
That’s the thing about us.
Even when we’re dumb animals who clearly need supervision, we have the best time together.
The topper of the trip was Brian thinking he was so cool when he teased my hungover self on the plane and asked if I remembered my phone.
Haha. Busted, Brian.
Such a perfect ending to this crazy trip.
Our kids worry when we travel now, but they should only worry if we do not need babysitters.
Because then we’d be boring.
And who wants that?