As my meeting was wrapping up in San Diego, I discreetly pulled out my cell phone and sent a text to San Diego Dave suggesting we catch the Broncos vs. Patriots game. Dave’s a great friend and grabbed a cab to meet me at the hotel. It seemed late to me, but it was only 5PM Pacific time. The game quickly became out of hand and we popped in and out of bars trying to find something more entertaining. We found a place called Maloney’s, they asked for my ID and then ran it through a machine that took a picture of it. Dave asked why they took pictures of our picture IDs and the bouncer calmly explained it was a precaution in the event we went crazy and busted up the place, he could give the picture of our picture ID to authorities to track us down. A bar with this kind of protocol in place must get crazy, it seemed encouraging.
I had to pee, so I stopped at the restroom before getting to the main bar area. Dave proceeded ahead and secured a spot at the bar for us to sit. The bar had about 250 open bar stools, I can’t even remember anyone in the entire place other than the bartender and an old guy with what appeared to be a tattoo on his face. I emerged from the bathroom to find Dave sitting next to the old man with the tattooed face.
Dave and I caught up and made conversation with the tattooed gentleman, but he was really difficult to understand, I think the only thing he said that was remotely coherent was that he was an “angel who came down to planet earth every hundred years to make love to a woman.” I asked his name and I think he said “Armageddon”.
We spent at least an hour in the place before we had enough of Armageddon, we found a dance club that was vacant. It still looked cool, so I made Dave take a picture of me dancing. Dave was an excellent guide of the super cool gaslamp district and it was a good thing we weren’t aiming to fit in, as most of the fellow patrons were really cool people who weren’t enthusiastic of our presence. They just aren’t cut out for me and Dave.