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The ramblings and observations of a kidney transplant recipient, although not necessarily for that reason.

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From Hell To Hell and Back to Hell and Back Home Again (Part Tres)
Thursday, September 14, 2006

That's right, baby! Part Tres, cause we're in Mexico now!

All I can think is....let's get to the resort, try to put aside what the rest of the world is handling for us right now, enjoy ourselves, and celebrate the coming together of our friends (and I use this term loosely). We'll check in and the get some beers at the swim-up bar. There should be plenty of babes in bikinis to check out and maybe we can catch a baseball game on the poolside TV. Easy livin'!

We pull into the driveway of The Oasis at around 5 pm, get out of the car to stretch our legs, and take a quick look around the immediate area to see if anyone we know is in the vicinity. I light up a smoke while Steve goes into the office to see about checking himself in. As I'm puffing away, John (the best man) walks by carrying two buckets of beer, 1 of Coronas and 1 of Pacificos. Already half a heat on, John lets me know, " We (4 or 5 of the groomsmen and the groom) are staying in the Presidential Suite and it's awesome dude, with a hot tub in it, and its room 410, but don't go there, because we're all out at the beach playing volleyball. Dude get some shorts on and meet us out there. It's awesome! Oh....and bring some more beer!"

I stomp out my smoke and make my way into the office to get my key. I decided to get my own room as I'm not a big fan of sharing (at least hotel rooms). As I'm making my way to the desk I already hear the clerk explaing to Steve in broken English that his room is not clean yet. What? It's 5 pm and check-in was at like 2pm. The clerk says, "Gib me one mas hora".

Wow! This place must be packed if the maids are 4 hours behind schedule cleaning the rooms. "We'll come back in an hour."

At the Oasis, the 4 stories of hotel rooms are separated from the beach by the pool area. The restaurant, offices, and convention areas are set off to the side of the pool area, also along the beach. To get from the office to the beach we had to walk by the pool. We thought we would stop at the bar and get some beers but when we got there, it was closed. The pool was desolate? Where is everybody? This place should be jumpin'? Maybe everyone (I mean in addition to our friends, and I use this term loosely) is at the beach? Steve and I walk back over to the restaurant (also desolate), grab a bucket of beers at that bar, and head back out through the pool to the beach where our friends (and I use this term loosely) were.

As we approached the opening in the windbreak wall separating the pool from the beach, we were able to get our first view of the beautiful sandy shores of Rosarito. We were able to find our friends (did I mention how loosely I'm using this term?) pretty easily as they were the only seven people on the beach. Steve shouts, "Hey guys! Where are all the people at?"

Randy answers back, "You're looking at 'em! Isn't this great? We've got the whole place to ourselves!"

Um...yeah Randy. Great. Considering you're the only one here with female companionship.

Not having the ability to change clothes, volleyball didn't sound like much fun. I could just sit on the sand and drink beer. I'm never opposed to that! OK....where to sit. Well, if I push that old bike tire and a couple of those old beer cans aside.....that area might be clean enough. "Hey are you guys really playing in your bare feet?," I ask. "Have you seen some of the things that are on this beach? You might want to put some shoes on. I think I see a disposable razor in the middle of your court!" Apparently the streets were not the only thing that didn't get cleaned in Mexico. The sand was littered with bottle caps, coffee filters, milk cartons...."Um...I'm gonna go hang out by the pool."

Randy replies, "But we're all HERE!"

I grab a beer and say, "I'll see you guys later. I don't think too many people actually do beachy type things on this beach."

There was absolutely NO ONE in sight. No one swimming in the water, no surfers, no fishermen, no people walking their dogs, no lifeguard towers. I've lived within a 2 miles of a beach my entire life. I've been up and down the California coast. I've been to beaches on the East Coast. I've been to beaches in Hawaii, Canada, France, Spain. I've even been to beaches in MEXICO. I've experienced them at all times of day from early in the morning to late at night. As many beaches as I've been to, I've NEVER been to one where I couldn't see another person in any direction. From my experience, people flock to beaches at all hours, either for fun or solitude depending on what time it is, but not Rosarito. There was no one in sight except my stupid friends (and this term gets looser and looser as this story goes on) playing barefoot sandsports on a beach full of hypodermic needles.

At least I'll get to see what downtown Rosarito looks like tonight. Papas and Beer, here we come!
posted by othur-me @ 4:42 PM  
4 Comments:
  • At 7:26 PM, Blogger Angel Feathers Tickle Me said…

    Love to all......

     
  • At 4:23 PM, Blogger Gloria said…

    You were at a *private* beach. That is, evil people take beaches from Mexico and keep them all to themselves. That is why you couldn't find anyone else.

     
  • At 9:46 PM, Blogger rawbean said…

    Have you seen Revenge of the Nerds Part 2? The nerds (and no I am not calling you a nerd at all) arent allowed at the cool hotel so they go to a total dump hotel in Fort Lauderdale. It is sketchy like your story.

     
  • At 10:02 AM, Blogger othur-me said…

    AFTM - um....thank you?

    Gloria - that is very much a possibility. It just seems so wierd that we could see for miles with no people. You would think there would be limits as to how far the private beach would go on.

    Rawbean - you can all me a nerd if you want I don't care. You cannot crush the super-coolness that is me.

     
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