Being nasty in Monterey

Traveling makes people tired. Weekday rooms are inevitably quieter than weekend rooms.

Saturday night saw the last crit, with a game concocted to have a little fun with Kenn. He's taken to saying "Afghanistan Banana Stand" instead of using the customary colorful parlance for describing a photographer's skill. We decided that every time he said "ABS" we would take a drink of our bottled beverages and slam them down on the table. Unfortunately, he only said it once, and didn't get the joke. Kenn, on the other side of the fence. We were by far as loud as the group twice the size last year. Dominic filled in where 10 other people were missing. You could also hear him 10 rooms away and knew you were heading in the right direction towards the conference room. Like a lighthouse of sound.

The room next door had been quiet all week until the party-goers showed up and made noise until after 2 a.m. The parking space in front of our room was taken by a behemoth truck, so I ended up parking in front of their room. The noise continued, the usual good time sounds of loud voices, laughter and ego. I'm an early riser and after missing a few hours sleep and a few of Kenn's crits, my nice-o-meter was registering two stops under. Drew was the perpetrator. Around 9 a.m., the plan began to unfold. Standing in the room, pushing the lock button twice makes the horn honk. The first round consisted of 4 honks in a row, a mobile alarm clock that aimed straight at their $99 a night room. Several other single honks over the next 20 minutes produced an angry person who kept opening the door looking for the offender. Door closes, and Drew pushes the lock button twice again. Door opens. Door shuts. Drew decided to go out for a smoke, cigarette in one hand, remote in the other. One of Drew's many talents is his poker face. Honk. Door opens. Drew's just standing there, smoking. Innocent. Remote in his pocket. Smoking. Door closes. Honk. Lady comes out and asks, "Do you know who's honking? They woke us up!."