A San Diego Travelogue

I went to La Jolla, California on a business trip last week. Besides having to spend most of the time with IT guys and not bringing a coat, I had a good time. Well, we had a good time. Meg decided to go with me. She stayed in the hotel room—a somewhat dated but clean room on the eighth floor at the Hyatt Regency—and did what any respectable, pregnant wife would do: lounge about reading the internet and not worrying about a single thing. Meanwhile, I was downstairs learning about banky stuff.

Our account executive took my work group and my wife to a fancy dinner at Eddie V’s. It was twilight when we arrived, so I didn’t take a picture of the view. Someone else on the internet did for me. I enhanced it a little to show you where we sat:
 

A Fancy Dinner
 
Despite the breathtaking view, the company we came with was odd. Our account executive and a fellow salesman wanted to thank us for buying all of their very expensive products (or perhaps thank us for financing their trips to Hawaii). I didn’t know quite how fancy the place was going to be, so I wore jeans and felt underdressed. Or maybe my jeans indicated how stylishly rich I was that it didn’t matter if I dressed up or not. Take your pick.
 
Appetizers included a mound of crispy calamari infused with those hot Asian red peppers. The account exec sitting across from me told me that I should avoid eating them. I took that as a dare and ate a large one. He accused me of not chewing, which brought back fond memories of when my sister Tara dared me to eat an ant when I was a kid. I ended up eating three peppers—and three ants, for that matter. (She paid me a dime after I ate the third ant. I insisted that I should have been paid for the other two, so she gave me a extra penny. Disappointingly, the account exec didn’t pay me anything to eat the peppers.)
 
I ordered a 22-oz. ribeye and a twice-baked potato, while my lovely wife ordered a lobster and a sirloin. The lobster was enormous, while the ribeye was okay—a little overcharred. I stared past the account exec’s head at the dark blue waves flashing white in the night and wished I could have this dinner alone with my wife. (Well, except I’d probably never take her there on our own. The dinner for all of us cost over a thousand dollars. Thank you corporate credit cards.)
 
The following evening we met up with my brother Tai and his family, who live in Santee, a suburb of San Diego. They met us at the Melting Pot across the parking lot from our hotel. While I am fond of the Melting Pot, it’s possibly not the best place to take a one- and two-year-old. Not that we would miss the chance for more lobster.
 
So I got to meet the younger of my two nieces. I’m afraid to say that she’s not the best looking baby in the world—her older sister is adorably cute. I assume that the younger one will grow into her looks, but for right now, her eyes are narrow and her hair hasn’t all come in yet. The server mistook her for a boy.
 
Another oddity: Tai’s wife referred to taking care of her children as “babysitting.” When she leaned over and asked the two-year-old how much she loved mommy, the kid squinted and pinched her fingers together. When asked how much she loved her dad, she threw her arms wide and then hugged my brother’s leg.
 
The third night, the IT VP took us to a hole-in-the-wall pizza place (the name escapes my memory) which had the doughiest pizza I’ve ever had in my life. I barely could choke my slices down. A Laker’s game was broadcast from two TVs and we had to eat pizza amidst young twenty-somethings on a big picnic bench. Across the bench, the three IT guys ate in silence and drank a pitcher of beer. Another awkward silence as I watched the game and my surroundings while pretending that I wasn’t eating pizza just to satiate my hunger.

The banking conference itself wasn’t entirely helpful. I probably would have gained as much information by just reading the PowerPoint slides posted on their website. Last year I seemed to gain more value out of going. Next year, I’ll probably not go entirely. Tomorrow I’ll type up a synopsis of what I learned for my boss.
 

Excuse me, but your seat is on fire