Baltimore: Day three

Zack and I had to check out of the hotel by noon. By the time we did what we needed to do (shower, pack, etc.), ba-bam, it was noon. Zack's friend Ben would be meeting us in the lobby at around 12:45pm, so we headed downstairs and blogged it up while we waited for him to arrive. When Ben showed up, Zack and I were still at work, so Ben pulled out his laptop (and Blackberry) and we all did our own thing together. At around 2:30pm, when Zack and I were done blogging, Ben and I were done Facebook-ing, iPhone-ing, and Blackberrying, and Zack was done Tweeting, we made our way out of the Holiday Inn to get some grub. Baltimore (near Camden Yards) isn't known for its amazing cuisine, so we had to settle for California Tortilla. It ain't Rosa Mexicano I can tell you that. I had the taco salad (I use the word "salad" very loosely) and shared an order of nachos with Zack which was hands down the *worst* nachos of all time. When we ordered them the day before they had that fake liquid Cheez Whiz type stuff on 'em (and that's not a good situation), so Zack decided to ask if we could get them with "real" cheese this time. The acne faced gentleman with the luscious pony tail taking our order said, "Sure. No problem. We can do that." We were thrilled. Even Ben was thrilled that we were thrilled. BUT when Zack picked up the nachos and brought them over to the table and we took a look at the finished product, we were shocked and almost amused. Let me see if I can describe them: Imagine a tablespoon of shredded white cheese (sans melt) purchased at a gas station sprinkled over a tub of greasy deformed tortilla chips with a couple squirts of off-white grainy-looking sour cream, several pickled jalapeno peppers (that's the only good part) and a spit of old guac. We could not believe our eyes. I mean, we really couldn't. We just stared at the nachos for a good five minutes and then continued to ridicule them loudly for the entire establishment to hear. "Are they SERIOUS?! You suck, Nachos." Zack went back up to Pony Tail and asked if someone could melt the cheese and Pony Tail said that they weren't able to melt cheese. "We don't have that kind of equipment," said Pony Tail.  Really? You don't have an OVEN or a microwave in a **restaurant**? How about an Easy Bake oven? That would work. Any heat source would work. Someone wanna volunteer to sit on the nachos? But, no. No such luck, A few seconds later Pony Tail admitted they *could* melt it, but it would take a VERY long time. (?) We then thought, "Maybe we should ask to put that fake cheese on there? It might help." That Pony Tail could do. So he gave us a large cup of hot Cheez Whiz and we thanked him. And you know what? This time the Whiz wasn't that bad. We actually started to like it and poured it all over the chips and made a big fake cheesy mess. Ben looked on while all of this was happening and just laughed. Then a man with a large tumor protruding out the back of his head stopped off at our table (on his way back from the bathroom) to vent about the Yankees. He was thrilled to see Zack's Shea Stadium (Mets) t-shirt, so he had to share his thoughts on his hatred for the "other" NY team. He said that he would not save a family member if it meant that the Yankees would benefit (or something like that). We were all shocked at his intensity and disgust. He was about 55-years-old, average height, Humpty Dumpty-looking, with thick 70s style glasses and dark grey trousers that were pulled up way too high on his belly (the pants were fastened just below his nipples). Oh and he had a herpes sore on his left upper lip. Hmm...what else. Oh yeah and he was bug-eyed. Anyway, he kept yelling for the entire California Tortilla population to hear,  "Fuck the Yankees!!! Fucking bastards." Zack and Ben (almost) entirely agreed with the man (I mean, they also hate the Yankees, but just don't condone such anger and public cursing), so it made the whole experience more amusing. If Crazy'd been venting about how much he hated baseball or ballhawks, the boys might not have been as tolerant. But who knows. Zack escaped to the bathroom for a few minutes leaving Ben and I to entertain Crazy. I asked if he was going to the game and he said, "I work [at] the game." And in a flash, he disappeared. I saw him once again at the stadium later that night in the picnic area sitting beside a mop, but I didn't say hi.

ANYway, the game. Yes. We got the hell out of CT and headed over to the stadium. I actually made it inside a minute earlier than Zack, so I was able to get this hilarious shot of him running for his life to beat the other ballhawks who'd entered from the other side.

Here's the photo:

Haha! That's serious. (That's Ben on the right in the orange Orioles jersey and shorts.)

The day was filled with lots of baseball and...pizza. I don't think I've eaten so much unhealthy food in a three day period in my entire life. Okay, maybe when I was in Junior High I might've eaten quite a bit of crap, but this was almost as bad. My colon might not EVER be the same...

In the next few days, I will be ingesting the purest and healthiest foods known to man. I can guarantee Cheez Whiz will not make an appearance.

Holla.