What a busy day. I was so excited for the trip that I got maybe 3 hours of sleep, which made the day drag further. Airport at 5 AM, security checking and all that jazz before the wait for boarding. Always makes me feel a little left out when I don't get the security pat down or "random extra screening" (perhaps due to my whiteness). B shows up much later than myself but turns out he had the right idea since I only got the pleasure of waiting longer after security. Flight to Calgary was quick, just the way I like my flights, and cramped for room as Westjet flights tend to be. Rolled into Calgary and had a little over 3 hours to kill, so what better activity than to chow down on some Harvey's? After all, Harvey's makes your hamburger a beautiful thing. Well that catchy jingle led me astray, because a burger at 8 am wasn't allowed according to the asian burger nazi employee. So a very pricy breakfast sandwich contraption with home fries it was. Filled the void but in the same sort of way as Vern's pizza; delicious and seems like a great idea at the time, but as soon as I finish it, it seems like not such a great idea as my stomach gurgles with the feeling of a lump of greasy food setting up base in my stomach. Surfed the web and people watched for a while after this, then hit up the always friendly US customs agents for a pat down and search through my stuff with a fine tooth comb. I had the option of the creepy 3D body scanner or a pat down and i didn't want to miss out again, so I told the dude he had to earn his wage and search me the old fashioned way.
The flight to LA was notably longer and although 3 hours isn't long if you're doing something fun, being cramped in a Westjet plane does not qualify under this title. But 3 hours later we were walking through LAX. Picked up the vehicle at a very seedy, very mexican car rental place and drove onwards to Anaheim in a new Honda Civic. After a surprisingly short trip to the burbs, we checked into our Motel 6. Now, maybe it's just Canada, but when I think Motel 6, a nice hotel isn't what comes to mind. Usually something more along the lines of hookers and drug addicts. But this was actually a decent place and the room was very contemporary and clean. Well worth the 53 dollars per night.
It was Wednesday and a ball game was happening in Angels stadium versus the Indians, so why not embrace this new country and go watch some baseball! Maybe some apple pie and Budweiser afterwards to fully become an honorary Yank. Asked the girl at the front desk how to get to the stadium walking and she couldn't believe we would walk. I Google mapped it before and it said 15 or 20 minutes walking, so that seemed reasonable, but I guess everyone in LA is so reliant on driving everywhere that walking for 15 minutes is unimaginable. So utilizing the very helpful "go that way" directions, we embarked on the 15 minute voyage. Angels stadium is pretty impressive looking and much better designed in terms of looks and marketing image than any rinks/stadiums I'd been to before.
We had come about tickets to the game from a guy standing by the Burger King a block from the stadium. He seemed legit, he had an Angels hat on...what else can you ask for from a scalper? The tickets worked fine and before getting seated we picked up a beer and a hot dog (Angels dog I think they called them...how clever...). But despite the cheesy name, it was absolutely delicious. Got pretty good seats from Joe scalper; down the third base line sort of halfway into left field. Unfortunately, the game wasn't as exciting as I had imagined and my 3 hours sleep the night before plus some jet lag caught up with me hard and I started to nod off. Time to go, we agreed on after the 8th inning and a whopping 3-2 score. Walked back to the hotel and had some Subway en route. Heard the next day that the Indians tied the game in the 9th inning and the Angels won in the 16th...shame to miss such a barn burner, but I probably would have been asleep in the 10th.
Figured we should pick up some food, booze, snacks, etc for the next day so hopped in the Civic and drove around until we found the most perfectly named store I've ever seen. Vons. There's pictures to prove it, of course. Vons is a Safeway affiliate and is set up in the same manner, except for the rows and rows of cheap booze. The beer section is where we spent a while, viewing all sorts of new brands of beer I hadn't heard of, and new types of beer from brands we have in Canada. For instance, there were tallboy Coors beer cans. Not Coors light, just Coors. There was Bud light wheat beer with extra hops. There were mini kegs of all sorts. But since we were in America, we went with an American beer; Sam Adams Boston Lager. Turned out to be not very good, but damn it sure tasted like America. Due to my boyish good looks, upon checkout I was ID'd. I asked the cashier "Can you pronounce the province?" She sounded it out half decently and asked me "What is it?" I replied "Saskatchewan, you said it basically right." She said "No, I mean what's a province?" I gave her a look like are you retarded? Then I remembered oh right, America. "Well it's like a state here" I told her. "Oh, really? huh." She certainly didn't help my impression of low American intelligence. Back to the motel, had a beer and hit the hay.
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