To celebrate my daughter's third birthday, I thought it would be a great idea to take her to the beach. At first I was going to plan some obligated elaborate pizza-play structure party for her, but then i realized the only people who would be at her party would be my friends (since my 3 year old has no friends) and then I realized none of MY friends would like to be at a party without beer and a million children at their knees. And as much as I love kids, I work with upwards of 80 children a day already. There is a tipping point. Not to mention, there is a strong correlation between those pizza places and clowns. And you fuckers all know how i feel about clowns. So, to the beach we went! I recruited my good "mama-friend", kat and her 5 year old daughter. We had a set plan: Hit up Newport, see the free aquarium, then the Ripley's-Wax-Undersea Garden trifecta, and then delicious seafood on the docks, fresh from the ocean. So this morning we got our coffees, and doughnuts, and headed west towards the sea.
The car ride there was not so bad, in fact it was full of optimism. So many words of hope were spoken amongst the mamas and children: "I can't wait to see the diver!" "I'm looking forward to the whale skeleton!" "The octopus is going to be so cool!", "the sky has poop in it!" (that was a quote from Seven, the poop-obsessed 5 year old.) Little did we know the bounds of disappointment that lay ahead! We sped down the overcast freeway, with calls of seagulls in our heads and dreams of bread bowl chowder in our hearts.
We arrived in Newport about 1:00pm. "Hurray!" we all shouted. "Let's go to the museum!" We threw our hands in the air and clapped as we crossed the "strong and industrious" steel and concrete bridge. Seven began to mention something about driving off the bridge and falling to our deaths but we did not let that detour us. I also mentioned that the bridge was comparable to Seven's daddy. I think she agreed. I think Kat might have agreed too. We pulled around the bend and into the aquarium parking lot only to find our first disappointment of the day. A big sign with a pink octopus, mocking us, laughing if you will. "MUSEUM CLOSED TUESDAYS AND WEDNESDAYS."
"FUCK YOU! DAMMIT!" the obscenties run rampant through my head, although they come out as "ah, darn it!"
"What is today?" Seven asks.
"TUESDAY, MUTHERFUCKER! AAARG. BAD FUCKIN DAUGHTER'S BIRTHDAY ASS SHIT FUN RUINED! ARRRG!" or "yeah, it's tuesday."
"No, I mean, is it friday? I want a happy meal."
Kat proceeds to tell yiddle she does not get any Mcdonald's today, instead we are having delicious popcorn shrimp. The thought of popcorn shrimp calms my inner rageathon, and we turn around calmly, and head to out next destination. Oh well, the aquarium is closed, but more fun awaits! The Historic Bayfront equivalent of the Bermuda Triangle! Ripley's! Wax Works! The Undersea Gardens!
We parked and observed our second foreshadowing of the day. The Historic bayfront was torn the fuck up! construction everywhere and the ice cream shop where I once got my period on my white pants was closed down and gone! (I was 13 and it was the 90s, i guess white pants were in.) For fuck's sake! No more ice cream?! I had so many memories at that place. No more popcorn either, just effing great. Oh well.
We avoided some old sea hags and monsters getting in and out of their cars, stepped over some pebbles and finally purchased our tickets. We are told to head to wax works and hurry up because they are replacing the carpet at 3:00. Jesus, way to move us on through. Apparently the whole street is renovating or something. To the Wax Works we headed. Upon entrance we are greeted by an elephant robot or "animatronic." Seven is delighted, Scarlett is hesitant. I knew this was going to be a bad idea. The moment we enter the dark room and see the Michael Jackson replica, I am also scared. Then Seven starts: "MAMA, I WANT DADDY, I HATE THIS, LET'S LEAVE WAAAH" Then Scarlett starts, only in a smaller voice: "mama, let's get out of here, pick me up!"
Really, I do not blame her. There is some scary shit in that place. I know they are only wax but really I kept fantasizing one would come to life and grab me and make me scream. Although it wasn't really a fantasy because I didn't actually WANT that to happen. I didnt want anything to come to life. Especially when I looked into the wax vampire's eyes. I think he creeped me out the most. That or bigfoot. That dude always freaks me out. No, didn't want anything moving. those statues needed to stay put! Unless it was the Johnny Depp wax statue. KIDDING, KIDDING. That guy is a tool. He even came complete with a sign that said "DO NOT TOUCH FACE." Yeah, you would, Johnny Depp. Go make another movie where you play the same character OVER AND OVER why don't ya?!
Anyway, we raced through the wax museum with children wrapped around our necks, and really did not see a whole lot of anything. I was even trying to put on the a brave face. Oh well, Ca-ching.
Of course, after that fiasco, I knew that Ripley's would be similar, only with weirder, scarier things. At one point a rickety mummy opened it's doors and popped out at me. I screamed, Scarlett clinged. Oops. Believe it or Not, I was right! Scare-fest 2010. Ca-ching!
Third stop, was of course the Undersea Gardens. In all my years of vacationing in Newport, I have yet to venture into it's murky depths. Kat warned me at least 3 times before we headed in: "It stinks down there." Truer words have never been spoken. Besides the pungent unclean-fish-poop water smell, the entire basement just felt dirty. Even the diver was dirty. As the show started, he swam around flaunting his fingers in the fluid motion a diver could only do. He fingered the sea anemones like some sort of chronic masturbator. Of course, being the immature pervert I am, I laughed uncontrollably, only to receive stares from the grown-ups around me. My only response to them was "I gotta get me a date with that diver!" He then proceeded to flip the crap around and play with some sort of ancient eel creature, all of it amounting to some sort of case PETA would like to know about. At any rate, it made for a good side-show-circus-ring display.
THEN CAME TIME FOR THE FINALE. THE OCTOPUS. Oh man, I had been waiting for this goodness. Apparently, the WORLD'S OLDEST OCTOPUS lives in the Newport Undersea Gardens. At least that is what their brochure says. Fucking liars. I held my hands in anticipation, waiting to catch a glimpse of those suckers. The underwater soundtrack played, the diver swam around, got his tether caught, and then it was over. "OH well, no octopus today!" the narrator said in her distorted obsolete microphone. And that was it. No fucking octopus.
WHAT THE FUCK. I jusy paid 25 dollars for this piece of shit show and I do not even get to see the star of the show?! I might as well paid to see Metallica and ended up with Winger. Or no band at all. FUCK YOU.
I left the place, starving and infuriated. Oh well, at least next door there was a beautiful restaurant window advertising "FRESH CRAB" and a bay view window, complete with sea lions. We sit down, I order a beer.
"I'll have the crab" Kat says.
"We are out of crab." the waitress says.
"I'll have the bread bowl full of chowder." I say.
"We don't have bread bowls." the waitress says.
WHAT.
I cannot begin to describe the disappointment running through my heart at this point. Just give me my beer already. We reluctantly order the fish and chips and shrimp quesadilla.
The fish and chips arrived after a short period of time, as did the "shrimp quesodilla" The first thing Kat did was pick up a slice of the cheese-and-shrimp combo. The amount of the those pink little baby-toed fucks called shrimp hung down like a 90 year old man's nutsack. That shrimp was packed into the tortilla. Like full of shrimp how a leprechaun's satchel of gold might hang. You get the picture. She took a bite and looked at me in dismal horror. DISMAL HORROR. I took a bite of my 15 fucking dollar fish and chips and it tasted like deep fried water. DEEP FRIED WATER. NASTY MUTHER FUCKER RIPPING ME OFF FOR PEICE OF SHUT NASTY UN-FRESH SEAFOOD BALL LICKER CUNT SACK!
I calmly get up, tell the waitress that it's not her fault, but this is the WORST food of my life. She apologizes, refund our money and we get out of there with the quickness. Ca-ching!!
On our way out of newport we stop to buy the kids stuffed animals, seashells and some ice cream.
Worst Beach Trip Ever! The End.
Modern romantic
13 years ago
