Another calender week down, and another great South Bay weekend in the books. Celebrated a little Halloween, which, in all honesty I don't know what I was celebrating (not sure I do...). Perhaps it is more fitting to say that I took the opportunity to party wildly in a costume. While Manhattan and Hermosa Beach didn't quite get on Madison's level, the revelry was certainly present.
There were great costumes everywhere, but I'm not really fond of the "went to the store and bought an entire costume in a bag" deal. I like the ones that people really put thought into and create from scratch. Honestly, I think my favorite one of the whole night was this dude that went as Owen Wilson from Zoolander, complete with Razor Scooter strapped across his back. This guy was so in character and looked so much like Owen Wilson that if I had run across him about six beers later I would have been fooled. I lamely went as a doctor, with scrubs and a mask. Oh yeah, and one of those really cool pen lights to check tonsils, which instantly made me one of the most annoying people in the bar.
I didn't really have big plans for Sunday, but, as fate would have it, I was talked into a Sunday Funday with the Rockham Crew and Jeff. We went down to the pier to watch football games, and lo and behold, there was a pumpkin racing festival taking place right outside the door of the bar, on the street that slopes down to the beach. Families were everywhere, building and decorating pumpkin race cars in the hopes of taking home one of the three foot trophies on display.
We wanted a trophy.
Sooooooo we entered the race. (after debating who amongst us was fast enough to snatch one and make it home without getting caught.)
We got our pumpkin, put some axles in it, got the wheels kit, and brought it back into our garage (Shellback's Bar and Grill) for work. An hour later, after being signed by every patron in the bar, the Rockham Racer emerged, complete with beer bottle ears, bottle cap eyes, mixed-drink straw hair, lime wedge eye brows, and a salt shaker lid nose.
We stepped up to the starting line with a crowd of Sunday bar patrons at our back. On the line next to us, a young man (okay he was 7) in uniform (a spiderman costume?), complete with pit crew (his dad and 8 year old brother). We were in for some serious racing.
"You're going down Batman!!" I taunted.
"But, I'm supposed to be Spiderman," our opponent replied.
"I don't CARE!"
"Why don't you boys take it easy, this is for charity," the pit boss (dad) said.
"Why don't you mind your own business old man!" Joe shouted.
(none of the above happened)
The refs got us into position. Pumpkins were checked for illegal parts. Apparently they had something against glass beer bottles.
The light went green. We were off. We came out of the gates in a fury. Tires squealing, seeds flying, crowd cheering.
And then our pumpkin hung a hard left turn, cut behind spiderman's, and crashed head first into the retaining wall.
We got smoked by a seven year old. Not even a gracious one at that, because he came over after the race, pointed at us and said "I beat you, I beat you, I won, I won!". Thanks kid, I guess I wasn't watching the race. In defeat we did what any sportsmanlike losers would do, we went back in the bar, made some excuses, and ordered shots.