Day Tripping

Awww hell's no! 6:45 in the morning? On a Sunday? After very little sleep from a Saturday night out on the Sunset strip? But the phone! The fucking phone! At 6:45! I answered, told her I'd be around to pick her up in twenty minutes and by 7:45, C. To and I arrived at the train station.

Tired as we were however, it was one of those moments, arriving at the station, where I felt really lucky to be an Angeleno. I'd been to the train station before, but hadn't realized the beauty of the place. It was, for me, another previously undiscovered Los Angeles gem. And they're out there...all the time as long as you are willing to step out of your comfort zone and explore.

But...ugh! 8:30. We all realized how early it was as we--C. To, Fishering, Dutch, Mercury, Rye and I--poured ourselves into our respective train seats dying for coffee, but more than satisfied with what beverage was readily available. Fortunately, we just happened to have two bottles of champagne and a jug of orange juice. So...mimosas! Whoo Hoo! Mimosas on a train ride? How much better could a Sunday be...well, except if we had been able to sleep in.

But the mimosas got us going, and by our arrival, we were all set to start our day in San Juan Capistrano. And how did we decide to start? Mexican food and free flowing champagne. Then we went into the Mission which was stunning. In a country and a city that seems too young to have much of a sense of history, the mission served as a great reminder that there is something that existed beyond spotlights and celluloid.

After an hour of all that history, we were parched. So we ended up in a bar for coffee and Hefeweisens accompanied by conversation that ran the gamut from gay porn to...well, gay porn. Two words: Pavel Novotny. Hubba hubba.

We walked around the town a bit more before finding ourselves in front of yet more pints of beer, this time at one of the most interesting bars I'd been to in a while. The decor consisted of bras strewn over cow skulls and ceiling rafters. At one point Fishering and Rye walked to the men's room only to return with jaws dragging on the floor. "Go to the bathroom!" They refused to say anything more. And so we went. One by one. Only to return with the same slack-jawed expression. Over the urinals was a meticulously crafted collage--a collage of women, women having sex with men, women having sex with women, women having sex with men and women, women having sex with plastic. And we all thought that our group of five homos and token straight girl were going to get killed.

After a late lunch of more Mexican food, we plopped ourselved back onto the train and headed home at 4:30.

At the end we all thought of what a great idea the day trip had been. Sure the setting was incomparable. The train trip was novel. And with mimosas and beer, well what's not to enjoy? With all that, it's easy to forget the thing that made the trip truly special--the opportunity to share the experience with truly special people.

(There is a new photo album up too)

Comments

[fishering]

Excellent, excellent. I am so glad Carrie got us all up to go...and thankful none of us got alcohol poisoning. I would do the swallow thing any day. My pics will be up later tonight.

[Mercury]

I had an absolute blast, V. Thanks for the porn, the laughs and for the conversation on the trip home.

[Dutchimport]

I hauch a good time! Really weird, but my hang over started Sunday night when we got home, and made me very tired. Luckily I felt great today! I don't even care I didn't see one damn swallow!

[Rye]

I love 630am walk-up calls, swallows, Pavel, trains, Francois Girbaud stonewashed jean jackets, handicap people, Max Orloff, champagne, waiters & friends named Peter, taking pictures of inappropriate "people" in holy bathrooms & hefeweizen beer. xoxox.

[Van]

Aren't you forgetting the intro to Lisa Lampinelli, the "bisexuals" air quotes included, cameras, cameras and more cameras, Swallows Inn (or as C To says, Wallows Inn), self-avowed size queens, self-avowed Max Orloff fans (oh wait, one and the same), and of course felching (learn something new every day, that's my motto).