So I met up with some friends on meetup.com at Penny Lane in San Marcos. It started as a damn catastrophe. I got off the train in SM to discover I got a flat on the way to the esco station. All is well I had a tube, but the pump I had didn't fit schraeder valves, only presta. DAMN! strike one. I get the bike back together with the new tube in the back and walk to the gas station. Pump is broken, strike 2. The next station, same story. Strike 3. I go next door to a RV dealership. Totally cool guys at this place in SM (if you want the name I'll edit this later or PM me and I'll figure it out for you). Their pump worked great, but now my new tube is split from walking so far on an empty tube. Strike 4 what the hell I didn't know that there were that many strikes. Finally with my tail between my legs I go to Sport Chalet to get a new tube and pump. After I'm now an hour late for the happy hour my bike is good to go. I ride down meet up with some cool people and get my drink on. 3 hrs later I had to bounce to catch my train back to esco, but my wounds were healed and I had a blast!

_________________
Team Chode!

At least there is a happy ending.

pictures?

Sorry I have none to offer

_________________
Team Chode!

I aim ti disappoint

_________________
Team Chode!

Back in '98 I believe it was...when the Padres were totally kicking some arse. I was doing a lot of work in that area of San Marcos, and I was riding Discovery Hills (gone now) several times a week. Penny Lane was where some co-workers and I would hang-out during lunch-time. One day the Padres were playing and we started our lunch at around 11:30, here come pitcher #1...ooh Padres are dooing good, pitcher #2, playing some darts, watching the game..oh man, its 1 o'clock. Ehhh, not to worry, we won't be missed at the jobsite, they won't even know we're gone...pitcher#3...mmmm yummo's. Padres still doing well, I seem to be getting better at darts.....sweet, this beer tastes sooo good. Pitcher #4 and #5 roll out, lots of grunting and growling Tim Allen stuff going on now. Before we know it time leapt ahead another hour and a half....2:30 and we aren't throwing darts with any consistancy of accuracy, just all lucky shots, but shots we meant to throw of course, grunt, growl, puffy chest.
Its the 7th inning, we can't leave yet, this game is soo close we can't miss it.
Hey Bar-Keep!!! 3 more pitchers!!!
After this everything became a blur until we arrived on the jobsite at 5:30, with the jobsite superintendant waiting for us...
Where the FVCK were you guys?! I know you were at the bar watching the Padres, I can smell the beer, what? Were you drinking straight from the fvcking tap or something you fvcking retards?!
Us: What are you talking about, we don't even like the Padres, and how the hell were we supposed to know they were in the playoffs?! OOooOOoops......we were all wearing our Padres caps, slurring our speech, walking sideways, laughing, puffing our chests.
Well, that wasn't enough for us...all of a sudden, one of yelled out...Titty Bar!!!
Yep, you guessed it, we headed over to the Main Attraction. I can't remember if I got any lap-dances, or if I even had a good time there. All I remember is when I woke up the next day, my truck was parked in my front yard, tools all over the street and yard, truck door still open, a screaming headache, couldn't see straight, a shit load of receipts, no money in my wallet.




*By the way, the Padres won the play-offs, but lost the World Series...badly, but they were there