I Need A Vacation

As you might expect, pouring your heart and soul into incoherent rantings about remote controls can really take a lot out of you. It’s emotionally draining. That’s why I’m looking to unwind this weekend with a mini vacation to Seattle.

This marks my first weekend back in Seattle since the infamous bachelor party. As you can imagine, our merry band of Zillionaires didn’t leave Seattle on the best of terms. Frankly, there were more than a few hotel employees, cab drivers and exotic dancers that were glad to see us go. That’s why we’ve waited almost a year to come back. We figured it best to let Seattle cool down a little. That, and of course, we wanted to give Seattle plenty of time to clean up all the puke from our last visit.

This is a first for me: I’ll be spending more than 24 hours in a city without having a vacation spreadsheet dictating my every move. For those that mock the spreadsheet method, and there are many of you, I have this to say: I found it ironic that I had an inbox full of emails all week asking for details about “the plan” for this weekend, each coming just short of begging me to create another spreadsheet to get everyone on the same page. Oh, you all like to joke about the spreadsheets, but deep down… you need them.

So here’s the compromise… Instead of a spreadsheet, I’ve prepared a rough outline for how this weekend could progress, along with some potential storylines we’ll hopefully see develop:

• I fly in Friday night. Dave will be picking me up. Ideally he will show up at not only the right gate, and time, but also on the correct day as well. Can Dave complete this trifecta? My fingers are crossed.
• We then head to Julie’s pad downtown, where DA and I will crash on Friday night. Don’t worry, she’s aware of this. At first she tried to give us directions to a local shelter, but she later relented when we promised to be on our best behavior. Thankfully, the words “best behavior” are pretty ambiguous.
• Krusty also flies in on Friday night. For anyone looking to meet up with us, we’ll all be at The Attic, sometime after 8 pm. We should be easy to find, as we’ll be the ones wearing monocles and attempting to order “Musty Balzacs” at the bar.

Saturday morning: Checkout at Julie’s place is 11 am, sharp. We figured we’d need to find a place to stay after the aftermath of the first night, so we went ahead and booked a hotel room downtown in advance. We tried Priceline again (despite a few recent letdowns), and it looks like it came through nicely.

Why the hotel? For a weekend such as this, it’s crucial to have a central command post downtown. From our hotel room, we will be able to strategize and coordinate the operations for the next 24 hours. Here’s what you can expect regarding the hotel:

• The sewing kit: The most prized item meant to be taken home by guests of a hotel room. I can’t sew whatsoever, but I cherish the sewing kit. Now as you know, I am a sporting chap. I’ve decided I won’t “call” the sewing kit in advance. I’m willing to give Dave a fair shot at it. However, when we enter the room, if Dave is foolish enough to wander over to the window to check out the view, that sewing kit is all mine, baby.
• Not all of my Hotel Moves involve ruthless attempts to hoard sewing kits. In fact, I’ve patented the “Bring in a bottle of whiskey, utilize the ice and vending machines and construct a fully functioning bar within 90 seconds of check-in” move. It’s actually become my hotel calling card, and I look forward to demonstrating it this weekend. Anyone meeting up at our hotel room can be assured that the bar will be open and fully stocked at all times.

For anyone that can resist the instinctual urge to spend Saturday on the couch, feel free to meet at our hotel for a walking tour of downtown around noonish on Saturday… Again, here are some potential storylines pertaining to Saturday afternoon:

• The Monorail: Every bit as cool today as it was in ’89. I’ll warn you right now, I am totally unimpressed with Monorails; the slowest “high speed” method of transportation known to man.
• “C’mon, how difficult can it be to pose as Gameworks employees?”
• Dave’s textbook move in any big city is to search for a really tall building with minimal security. The goal here is to sneak up to the top floor to admire the view from the top. Sometimes we get to the top and find a restaurant. Sometimes it’s office space. But we always find a hardass employee unwilling to let us simply look out their damn window. Of course, we don’t merely slink away. One of us has to counter with, “Do you know who I am? I own this building!”
• If we happen to be in the Westlake Shopping Center, and I happen to be a little hungry… well, my money is on Sbarro to answer the call.
• How much time will I spend at the shop in Pike’s Place with all the vintage toys from the ’80’s? Will I shame myself into asking the guy behind the counter if I can play with Skeletor for a few minutes?
• If we feel really ambitious, we might walk over to the Space Needle and decide it’s not worth the eight bucks to take the elevator to the top.
• Krusty and I will both be without our wives, which translates to one thing: Whatever we end up doing, we will make excellent time.

After wandering around downtown for a few hours, we’ll grab a light dinner, as we will soon engage in battle. Dave booked Whirlyball for 7 pm on Saturday night for anyone that wants to participate in the Sport of Kings. For those that have never played, I once described Whirlyball as: “a sport that proudly synthesizes lacrosse, bumper cars and massive alcohol consumption. While it may seem simple enough, “Whirlyball” actually had a ton of rules that we all went out of our way to ignore. Since the members of our group were equally reckless and intoxicated, our style of play could best be described as “Whiplashball.”

The good news is that the Commissioner of Whirlyball can’t suspend you for being intoxicated, as the entire “sport” centers around binge drinking. Good times. One final note on Whirlyball, if we have another successful outing this weekend, I’m going to nominate it as the “Official Sport of Zillionaires.”

As you can imagine, you can work up quite a thirst getting belligerently drunk on the Whirlyball court. So naturally, we’ll head back downtown to cap off the weekend’s festivities with a night of epic drinking.

So that’s a rough outline for what we could see this weekend. The good news here is that I think we’ve evolved (or devolved?) to the point that we don’t need a regimented plan to have a fun weekend. If we can all just find our way downtown and throw in some alcohol, the good times and priceless memories should take care of themselves…