San Diego 2005: Greg's journal - Sunday (#6)
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San Diego 2005: Greg's journal - Sunday (#6)
SUNDAY (07/17/2005):
Sunday morning began somewhere around dawn as Saturday had
not seen Justin or I sleep at all. Since we were up, as well as the sun,
and since we were only seven miles from the border, Justin and I
decided to take a quick trip to Mexico. After grabbing a soft drink
from the McDonald's in the Motel 6 parking lot, we hopped in the car
and headed south on Interstate 5.
Though the gas light had come on during our trip back from taking
Dino and Jason to their hotel, we were sure that we still had a couple
gallons in the tank... and that a fifteen mile trip would be fine.
About seven miles later, we were crossing the border into Mexico.
Neither Justin nor I had ever been to Mexico, so it was one of those
things you can cross off your "to do" list, even if it is only for
a minute or two.
The border to Mexico was completely vacant, and we had not seen other
cars on the road from Chula Vista. It was 6:00am on a Sunday.
After a quick look in the trunk, the border guard waved us through,
and we were "in Mexico" as planned. Since there were no easy to identify
stopping points along the way, we settled for a couple of highway exits that
would get us back heading towards the U.S. less than a mile from the border.
As we rounded the last turn, we were thrust into the middle of about
a thousand cars heading for the eight border lanes into the U.S.
Our gas light was suddenly much brighter than it had been two minutes earlier.
Moving as far to the right (against a retaining wall) as possible, we inched
along toward the U.S. Knowing for sure that we would run out of gas,
we mentioned that we could just leave the vehicle and walk to the border,
telling the guard what had happened.
Miraculously, we made it to the front of our line, 38 minutes later,
and after a check of our driver's licenses, we were back in the U.S.A.
An exit not more than a mile from the border provided a quick stop
at a gas station where we were more than happy to pay whatever
the price was per gallon.
It was closer to 7:00am now, and there was no doubt that our chance
for a little sleep had come and gone. We decided to take the keyboard
back to Wal-Mart (as well as a Y-connector that allowed the keyboard
and mouse to share the same plug), since we had owned them less
than 24 hours, and didn't need either anymore.
Our expensive gasoline near the border was enough to get us to
a cheaper gas station in Chula Vista, so we filled the car up,
and spent a little time in the Starbuck's we had visited on Wednesday.
Remembering that Chris S. had mentioned that the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation
banner was probably still hanging in the meeting room, we headed back
to the convention center well before it opened, in order to try to retrieve
the banner. Chris S. had only barely noticed when we snuck in earlier
to grab the keyboard, so we figured he'd be sleeping at least a while longer.
At the convention center, I loaned Justin my "pink badge" and he headed
off to see if it was possible to get to the meeting room where we hoped
the banner would still be hanging on the wall. After he returned successful,
I found out that some security was not letting him in, while others didn't seem
to mind. It didn't really matter because the meeting room was not on
the secured convention floor, but upstairs, where security didn't need to guard.
Since I had little sleep the whole week, and none the night before,
I'm not exactly sure that I've put the story together in the right order.
At any rate, there was definitely a banner, Wal-Mart, Starbuck's, and a visit
or two to the hotel room where Chris S. slept, and all of these occurred
after our Sunday morning trip to Mexico.
Justin and I returned to the hotel in order to pack our luggage,
and to see if Chris S. was ready to head to a meal before going to the airport.
When we arrived, we met Chris M., Sirac, and the "Hired Gun" guys loading
their stuff at the Motel 6. We said goodbye again, and headed up to the room.
After packing our stuff and loading the car, the three of us decided another
trip to Denny's would be good before we made it to the airport.
At this point, I was sitting fairly still in the backseat of the car, so I
was probably drifting in and out of consciousness. Justin might laugh at me,
but earlier he had fallen asleep mid-sentence while we were leaving the
Wal-Mart parking lot. While describing the security guards he encountered
at the convention center, he said something about their "white sleeves"...
then he paused... then he jarred himself awake by saying,
"I think I just fell asleep... was I really talking about sleeves?"
A stop at the understaffed Denny's showed a crowd outside of the restaurant,
while a stop at the Denny's we visited on Wednesday was equally crowded.
Driving through San Diego searching for a Denny's sign, we took an exit
that had us trapped between the Lockheed-Martin facility and a Naval Recruiting
dead-end, which looked like a main street until we got there.
Somewhat unrelated, but here's San Diego downtown,
and San Diego harbor (as seen from the car)
Turning around, (thankfully Chris S. was driving by this point) we headed toward
where we thought was a Denny's sign and I noticed a restaurant called the
Country Waffle. I suggested that it sounded like a place to get breakfast,
and we parked and walked in. The crowd at the Country Waffle seemed to be
either 80-plus years old, or a family of at least a dozen members.
We were told to have a seat and we would be called in about fifteen minutes.
After seeing the crowds at Denny's, fifteen minutes was no problem.
For some reason in the waiting area, I believe I said that the restaurant
"smelled right". I wasn't sure what I meant, or if I was still semi-conscious,
but when we were shown a table and the menus, I noticed that the back of the
Country Waffle menu told the story of the restaurant and its beginnings in
Little Rock, Arkansas. See, I knew it "smelled right"!
I think I ordered New York steak and eggs, because no one from Arkansas
would go to San Diego to get an Arkansas meal, and Justin and Chris S. also
ordered big breakfasts. Chris's meal didn't come with a waffle, so he
asked the waitress if he could get one anyway and she was back in about
ten seconds with a giant waffle. I wonder if it only seemed like ten seconds
because I dozed off...
After thinking that biscuits and gravy in Arkansas were probably superior
to biscuits and gravy elsewhere, Justin and Chris assured me that they were
able to access similar quality biscuits and gravy in Colorado and Arizona.
They commented that they would have easily assumed that I was drunk,
though they knew that I had not had a drink on the whole trip.
We returned the car to the Dollar Rent-A-Car around noon, and took the
shuttle back to the airport. Justin's flight left around 2:00pm,
while Chris's flight was just after 3:00pm. I got a call from
Chris Gould and Kristie not long after, and met up with them.
They left their bags with me for a while to get some last minute
shopping done, which was fine as I had planned to sit at the airport
and read Harry Potter all day. They left and I took a seat to read.
Somewhere around page 7, my eyes starting crossing involuntarily,
so I found a nicer, quiet place to sit and I took a few dozen naps
of about two to ten minutes.
I believe I called Dino at one point, to see how the Sunday convention
was going, but I don't believe I spoke to him for more than a minute.
He mentioned that there were much fewer people, including professionals,
as several had used Saturday as their last day of the convention.
After Chris G. and Kristie returned, we chatted for a while about
comics and jobs and said our goodbyes.
I located a hotel accomodations board near the baggage claim,
and called Motel 6 San Diego for a "free" ride to a room.
Of course, the cost of the shuttle was built into the cost of the room,
but it was a place to lie down and control the air conditioning.
(I think I probably set the room temperature at 68degrees.)
After talking to my wife for a while, who could tell I was exhausted,
I set my alarm for 10:00am and was asleep in no time.
The "catch" for the Motel 6, in terms of its lower prices than other hotels,
is that it is next door to the Dollar Rent-A-Car we had used that week.
For those of you who know that area, the planes are literally only
hundreds of feet above you as they make their approach to the San Diego airport.
So throughout the night (until about 2am) and starting as early as 5am,
the sound of airplanes on arrival is quite loud. I didn't hear any of them.
The lights went out about 11pm, and I don't know anything more until Monday.
-Greg Holland
Sunday morning began somewhere around dawn as Saturday had
not seen Justin or I sleep at all. Since we were up, as well as the sun,
and since we were only seven miles from the border, Justin and I
decided to take a quick trip to Mexico. After grabbing a soft drink
from the McDonald's in the Motel 6 parking lot, we hopped in the car
and headed south on Interstate 5.
Though the gas light had come on during our trip back from taking
Dino and Jason to their hotel, we were sure that we still had a couple
gallons in the tank... and that a fifteen mile trip would be fine.
About seven miles later, we were crossing the border into Mexico.
Neither Justin nor I had ever been to Mexico, so it was one of those
things you can cross off your "to do" list, even if it is only for
a minute or two.
The border to Mexico was completely vacant, and we had not seen other
cars on the road from Chula Vista. It was 6:00am on a Sunday.
After a quick look in the trunk, the border guard waved us through,
and we were "in Mexico" as planned. Since there were no easy to identify
stopping points along the way, we settled for a couple of highway exits that
would get us back heading towards the U.S. less than a mile from the border.
As we rounded the last turn, we were thrust into the middle of about
a thousand cars heading for the eight border lanes into the U.S.
Our gas light was suddenly much brighter than it had been two minutes earlier.
Moving as far to the right (against a retaining wall) as possible, we inched
along toward the U.S. Knowing for sure that we would run out of gas,
we mentioned that we could just leave the vehicle and walk to the border,
telling the guard what had happened.
Miraculously, we made it to the front of our line, 38 minutes later,
and after a check of our driver's licenses, we were back in the U.S.A.
An exit not more than a mile from the border provided a quick stop
at a gas station where we were more than happy to pay whatever
the price was per gallon.
It was closer to 7:00am now, and there was no doubt that our chance
for a little sleep had come and gone. We decided to take the keyboard
back to Wal-Mart (as well as a Y-connector that allowed the keyboard
and mouse to share the same plug), since we had owned them less
than 24 hours, and didn't need either anymore.
Our expensive gasoline near the border was enough to get us to
a cheaper gas station in Chula Vista, so we filled the car up,
and spent a little time in the Starbuck's we had visited on Wednesday.
Remembering that Chris S. had mentioned that the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation
banner was probably still hanging in the meeting room, we headed back
to the convention center well before it opened, in order to try to retrieve
the banner. Chris S. had only barely noticed when we snuck in earlier
to grab the keyboard, so we figured he'd be sleeping at least a while longer.
At the convention center, I loaned Justin my "pink badge" and he headed
off to see if it was possible to get to the meeting room where we hoped
the banner would still be hanging on the wall. After he returned successful,
I found out that some security was not letting him in, while others didn't seem
to mind. It didn't really matter because the meeting room was not on
the secured convention floor, but upstairs, where security didn't need to guard.
Since I had little sleep the whole week, and none the night before,
I'm not exactly sure that I've put the story together in the right order.
At any rate, there was definitely a banner, Wal-Mart, Starbuck's, and a visit
or two to the hotel room where Chris S. slept, and all of these occurred
after our Sunday morning trip to Mexico.
Justin and I returned to the hotel in order to pack our luggage,
and to see if Chris S. was ready to head to a meal before going to the airport.
When we arrived, we met Chris M., Sirac, and the "Hired Gun" guys loading
their stuff at the Motel 6. We said goodbye again, and headed up to the room.
After packing our stuff and loading the car, the three of us decided another
trip to Denny's would be good before we made it to the airport.
At this point, I was sitting fairly still in the backseat of the car, so I
was probably drifting in and out of consciousness. Justin might laugh at me,
but earlier he had fallen asleep mid-sentence while we were leaving the
Wal-Mart parking lot. While describing the security guards he encountered
at the convention center, he said something about their "white sleeves"...
then he paused... then he jarred himself awake by saying,
"I think I just fell asleep... was I really talking about sleeves?"
A stop at the understaffed Denny's showed a crowd outside of the restaurant,
while a stop at the Denny's we visited on Wednesday was equally crowded.
Driving through San Diego searching for a Denny's sign, we took an exit
that had us trapped between the Lockheed-Martin facility and a Naval Recruiting
dead-end, which looked like a main street until we got there.
Somewhat unrelated, but here's San Diego downtown,
and San Diego harbor (as seen from the car)
Turning around, (thankfully Chris S. was driving by this point) we headed toward
where we thought was a Denny's sign and I noticed a restaurant called the
Country Waffle. I suggested that it sounded like a place to get breakfast,
and we parked and walked in. The crowd at the Country Waffle seemed to be
either 80-plus years old, or a family of at least a dozen members.
We were told to have a seat and we would be called in about fifteen minutes.
After seeing the crowds at Denny's, fifteen minutes was no problem.
For some reason in the waiting area, I believe I said that the restaurant
"smelled right". I wasn't sure what I meant, or if I was still semi-conscious,
but when we were shown a table and the menus, I noticed that the back of the
Country Waffle menu told the story of the restaurant and its beginnings in
Little Rock, Arkansas. See, I knew it "smelled right"!
I think I ordered New York steak and eggs, because no one from Arkansas
would go to San Diego to get an Arkansas meal, and Justin and Chris S. also
ordered big breakfasts. Chris's meal didn't come with a waffle, so he
asked the waitress if he could get one anyway and she was back in about
ten seconds with a giant waffle. I wonder if it only seemed like ten seconds
because I dozed off...
After thinking that biscuits and gravy in Arkansas were probably superior
to biscuits and gravy elsewhere, Justin and Chris assured me that they were
able to access similar quality biscuits and gravy in Colorado and Arizona.
They commented that they would have easily assumed that I was drunk,
though they knew that I had not had a drink on the whole trip.
We returned the car to the Dollar Rent-A-Car around noon, and took the
shuttle back to the airport. Justin's flight left around 2:00pm,
while Chris's flight was just after 3:00pm. I got a call from
Chris Gould and Kristie not long after, and met up with them.
They left their bags with me for a while to get some last minute
shopping done, which was fine as I had planned to sit at the airport
and read Harry Potter all day. They left and I took a seat to read.
Somewhere around page 7, my eyes starting crossing involuntarily,
so I found a nicer, quiet place to sit and I took a few dozen naps
of about two to ten minutes.
I believe I called Dino at one point, to see how the Sunday convention
was going, but I don't believe I spoke to him for more than a minute.
He mentioned that there were much fewer people, including professionals,
as several had used Saturday as their last day of the convention.
After Chris G. and Kristie returned, we chatted for a while about
comics and jobs and said our goodbyes.
I located a hotel accomodations board near the baggage claim,
and called Motel 6 San Diego for a "free" ride to a room.
Of course, the cost of the shuttle was built into the cost of the room,
but it was a place to lie down and control the air conditioning.
(I think I probably set the room temperature at 68degrees.)
After talking to my wife for a while, who could tell I was exhausted,
I set my alarm for 10:00am and was asleep in no time.
The "catch" for the Motel 6, in terms of its lower prices than other hotels,
is that it is next door to the Dollar Rent-A-Car we had used that week.
For those of you who know that area, the planes are literally only
hundreds of feet above you as they make their approach to the San Diego airport.
So throughout the night (until about 2am) and starting as early as 5am,
the sound of airplanes on arrival is quite loud. I didn't hear any of them.
The lights went out about 11pm, and I don't know anything more until Monday.
-Greg Holland
Last edited by greg on Sun Jul 24, 2005 4:05:16 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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betterthanezra
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Re: San Diego 2005: Greg's journal - Sunday (#6)
Of all the things I did experiance with you guys....that would have been hillarious too have witnessed. I can see Justin saying this as I was reading it and I'm still laughing.greg wrote:SUNDAY (07/17/2005):
While describing the security guards he encountered
at the convention center, he said something about their "white sleeves"...
then he paused... then he jarred himself awake by saying,
"I think I just fell asleep... was I really talking about sleeves?"
-Greg Holland
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Re: San Diego 2005: Greg's journal - Sunday (#6)
I can imagine it was a sight! OMG, I kept doozing off. On the plane, I am sure I was snooring!betterthanezra wrote:Of all the things I did experiance with you guys....that would have been hillarious too have witnessed. I can see Justin saying this as I was reading it and I'm still laughing.greg wrote:SUNDAY (07/17/2005):
While describing the security guards he encountered
at the convention center, he said something about their "white sleeves"...
then he paused... then he jarred himself awake by saying,
"I think I just fell asleep... was I really talking about sleeves?"
-Greg Holland
-Brian
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Sounds like my trip back to AZ. Only I was driving at the time. 
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