This has one, two, three, four, five, SIX
Six setting for optimum comfort, all of which I will gladly show you now.
I hate the showers at the hotel. They have no water pressure at all, it seems.
California is pretty cool so far. I've seen a lot of coast, a lot of nice beaches, and everything is expensive as all hell. Last night me and my parents went to San Francisco to meet a guy my dad went to school with, and used to be best buddies with. He moved to SanFran right after highschool(three guesses why). So we went out to dinner, I guess he owns his own construction company now, building anything from houses to restaurants for people, and he must do a good job too, he had pictures from Maui, Hawaii, all over Cali, of houses he built for people. He bought a shitty house in SanFran over ten years ago for 100,000. Now the property alone is worth 1.5mil, not to mention the work he did on the house. He was a really fun guy, him and my dad kept trading stories about the stupid shit they did when they were younger, and they both got really drunk. Me, and this guys 26 year-old boyfriend just sat and laughed at them. My mom got a bit tipsy, so she was funny. Then, the fun part came. We were back at his house and ready to leave. No way my dad was going to drive to the hotel, and my mom didn't want to. So I got to drive. I made my way back onto the expwy, and my dad said once we got closer to San Jose he'd tell me where to get off. I drove for about 45 minutes before we got into San Jose, and I tried waking my dad up, but he's passed out from the 20-odd beers he drank. My mom is asleep in the backseat, plus, she wouldn't have been a help anyway, all she does is read the street signs out loud, like she's asking a question; "Fort street?" "Telegraph?" a lot like that. So I just figure, if our hotel is on 1st street and Brokaw, that I can find a numbered street, and use that to find 1st street, and we'll be fine. The only numbered street I see is 7th street, and after it there are signs for 10th and 11th, so I decide to get off onto 7th. I got off the freeway, managed to get my dad conscious, and said "Dad, I got off on 7th street, which way do I go?" to which he replied; "Yeah...7th street is good...goodjob...but if they offer to buy Fort street, tell them we won't sell, ok?" At which point I determined he wasn't going to be much help. This had now woken my mother who was full of questions "Where are we, why did you get off the freeway?" I'm driving around for about fifteen minutes in both directions on 7th street, not seeing any familiar streets, so I just picked one and turned on it, and after that I wasn't seeing any numbered streets, I guess all the numbers hate 7th and he's on his own. We pulled into a gas station, because I had to pee, but the attendant said there was no bathroom, so I peed on the side of his building. In the mean time my mom had called my sister, because she has a relative idea of where the hotel is, and asked directions. Apparently, I had to go back to the freeway, and take that to the junction of another freeway and that will take me right onto Brokaw street, where the hotel is. So I'm backtracking, and my dad is awake by now, eating corn nuts, asking me why I didn't wake him up. I told him not to worry, I didn't sell fort street, he could go back to sleep. He got really confused with that one. After about 10 minutes of backtracking my dad starts yelling "Why the fuck didn't you wake me up?! Where the fuck are we!? Where's the freeway!?" As I tried to explain it 'nicely' to him, I must have missed part of my backtracking, because I was completely lost. I was driving down some street named Monterey in god knows which direction, with my dad still bitching about the freeway, and my mom asking "Skyport st?" "San Carlos st?" I just kept driving, waiting to see something familiar. Finally, I started recognizing downtown San Jose, which is 10-15 minutes south of our hotel, so now I have a general idea of where we are, because my sister took us out for lunch in the area. To shut them both up simultaneously I said; "I know where we are, right by where we had pizza at the other day." I found my sister's apartments, and from there, my dad chummily directed me to our hotel, I called Erica, and passed the fuck out.
Stay tuned for more exciting stories from Brandon's trip to California
I hate the showers at the hotel. They have no water pressure at all, it seems.
California is pretty cool so far. I've seen a lot of coast, a lot of nice beaches, and everything is expensive as all hell. Last night me and my parents went to San Francisco to meet a guy my dad went to school with, and used to be best buddies with. He moved to SanFran right after highschool(three guesses why). So we went out to dinner, I guess he owns his own construction company now, building anything from houses to restaurants for people, and he must do a good job too, he had pictures from Maui, Hawaii, all over Cali, of houses he built for people. He bought a shitty house in SanFran over ten years ago for 100,000. Now the property alone is worth 1.5mil, not to mention the work he did on the house. He was a really fun guy, him and my dad kept trading stories about the stupid shit they did when they were younger, and they both got really drunk. Me, and this guys 26 year-old boyfriend just sat and laughed at them. My mom got a bit tipsy, so she was funny. Then, the fun part came. We were back at his house and ready to leave. No way my dad was going to drive to the hotel, and my mom didn't want to. So I got to drive. I made my way back onto the expwy, and my dad said once we got closer to San Jose he'd tell me where to get off. I drove for about 45 minutes before we got into San Jose, and I tried waking my dad up, but he's passed out from the 20-odd beers he drank. My mom is asleep in the backseat, plus, she wouldn't have been a help anyway, all she does is read the street signs out loud, like she's asking a question; "Fort street?" "Telegraph?" a lot like that. So I just figure, if our hotel is on 1st street and Brokaw, that I can find a numbered street, and use that to find 1st street, and we'll be fine. The only numbered street I see is 7th street, and after it there are signs for 10th and 11th, so I decide to get off onto 7th. I got off the freeway, managed to get my dad conscious, and said "Dad, I got off on 7th street, which way do I go?" to which he replied; "Yeah...7th street is good...goodjob...but if they offer to buy Fort street, tell them we won't sell, ok?" At which point I determined he wasn't going to be much help. This had now woken my mother who was full of questions "Where are we, why did you get off the freeway?" I'm driving around for about fifteen minutes in both directions on 7th street, not seeing any familiar streets, so I just picked one and turned on it, and after that I wasn't seeing any numbered streets, I guess all the numbers hate 7th and he's on his own. We pulled into a gas station, because I had to pee, but the attendant said there was no bathroom, so I peed on the side of his building. In the mean time my mom had called my sister, because she has a relative idea of where the hotel is, and asked directions. Apparently, I had to go back to the freeway, and take that to the junction of another freeway and that will take me right onto Brokaw street, where the hotel is. So I'm backtracking, and my dad is awake by now, eating corn nuts, asking me why I didn't wake him up. I told him not to worry, I didn't sell fort street, he could go back to sleep. He got really confused with that one. After about 10 minutes of backtracking my dad starts yelling "Why the fuck didn't you wake me up?! Where the fuck are we!? Where's the freeway!?" As I tried to explain it 'nicely' to him, I must have missed part of my backtracking, because I was completely lost. I was driving down some street named Monterey in god knows which direction, with my dad still bitching about the freeway, and my mom asking "Skyport st?" "San Carlos st?" I just kept driving, waiting to see something familiar. Finally, I started recognizing downtown San Jose, which is 10-15 minutes south of our hotel, so now I have a general idea of where we are, because my sister took us out for lunch in the area. To shut them both up simultaneously I said; "I know where we are, right by where we had pizza at the other day." I found my sister's apartments, and from there, my dad chummily directed me to our hotel, I called Erica, and passed the fuck out.
Stay tuned for more exciting stories from Brandon's trip to California