I have tickets to the Holiday Bowl. That’s it. No place to stay, no airfare, no ride. Just tickets for me and three of my closest friends, one of whom has already bailed on the trip due to work commitments (we’re gonna miss you, Chuck).
We took a back-door route to buying our game tickets, opting to use the Holiday Bowl’s official website for all our bowl needs, rather than waiting for the high-rollers to purchase their seats from the University of Washington athletic department. (We’re sneaky.) As a result, we were able to get seats in the fourth row of the upper bowl, as opposed to most laypeople who will be stuck in the nether reaches of Qualcomm Stadium. And having been to Qualcomm to watch a Padres game once, I can tell you that the nether reaches of that venue are basically in Tijuana.
Right now, I’m one-third of the way to watching the Huskies play Nebraska in the Holiday Bowl. And for all of you out there who want to rain on my parade by bringing up the game we already lost to the Cornhuskers earlier this year, let me fill you in on a little secret: the bowl game doesn’t really matter all that much. There, I said it. Yeah, it’d be nice to win, but this is really just one big excuse to party with my closest friends. In San Diego, no less. The Whale’s Vagina, as they say. Couldn’t ask for a better vacation.
As part of my master plan to make this trip epic, I’ve found a villa that sleeps 22 people to house our endeavors. It has an outdoor pool, an indoor pool, a hot tub, multiple big screen TVs, six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and overlooks the ocean. I’d share the link with you, but I’m seriously prepared to rent this place and I want as little competition as possible. When you divide the total cost per night by the number of people that would be staying there, it’s much, much cheaper than a hotel.
In fact, I highly suggest you all rent houses while in San Diego. Think about it. If you get a house, you can just head to Costco and buy all the food and alcohol you need to get you through the duration of the trip. No need to worry about eating out or staggering into and out of bars. With a pimp pad (like the one I’ve tracked down) you can chill at the same place you sleep each night, with all your friends in tow, all the stuff you need to have a good time, all while feeling like a total baller. The experience will be amazing. You’ll thank me for suggesting this.
Of course, there’s the matter of getting to San Diego in the first place. As it turns out, flights are pretty damn expensive right now. I blame this on TSA and their new security regulations. All that money they wasted on nude body scanners and enhanced pat-downs has really screwed the common folk like you and me. A good rate for a flight to SoCal will have you paying $600 round trip. Lucky for me, I have a $99 companion fare on Alaska Airlines, so if anyone is looking for a good companion to fly with (assuming you split the cost of airfare fifty-fifty with me), I’m down. My selling points are that I can be talkative or reserved (depending on your preference), I take at least two showers a day (if not three), I’m not fat (and hence won’t ooze over into your personal bubble), and I’m not allergic to anything (so you can eat all the free peanuts you want). Of course, if the companion thing doesn’t work out, we may end up driving to California. Which is just insane and, at 26 years of age, is supposed to be something that was relegated to years gone by. But who knows. We have three-plus weeks to figure it out. Something magical will happen in the end.
Here’s the thing, Dawg fans. When I get really excited about something, it’s tough to slow me down. For instance, I’m absolutely 100-percent confident that my friends and I will be staying in a villa of some sort when we go to San Diego. It’s going to happen. I am going to make it happen. I can be very persuasive. Hence, it will go down like Charlie Brown. I’m also confident that we will spend our weekend having a great time whether the Huskies win or lose. It will probably evolve (or devolve, depending on your point of view) into total debauchery. The type of debauchery that you might not remember in the morning, but that could impact you for the rest of your life. That’s the kind of debauchery I want to be a part of.
Ah, yes, my fellow purple-and-gold brethren. It’s going to be a blast. I encourage you to go nuts. This is eight long years of frustration being let out on one holiday season. Enjoy yourselves. Make memories. It’s our time.