When I awoke Sunday morning to the sound of my vibrating phone, the night before hit me like a ton of bricks. Apart from working a 10-hour shift behind a bar during a weekend full of drunks in costumes, I’d also managed to over-serve myself, leaving me feeling sluggish and questioning my own mortality. After several trips to the bathroom and no fewer than six sessions with my Peak vaporizer, I was still feeling like a zombie, only now I was a stoned zombie with nothing left inside my stomach.
While I sat there, cursing my decisions from the night before and watching old episodes of American Gladiators, I knew that if I didn’t act quickly I would be in danger of ordering a pizza and staying in bed all day–which would make for a horrible article. So I wrestled myself out of bed and tried to make my fuzzy brain decide on something to do. I was busy checking the calendar section of the Weekly website when I decided that I wanted to go to a baseball game. America’s favorite pastime had been on my mind a lot this past week, and I realized why as I searched for tickets. In my stoney ignorance toward all things sports, I had forgotten the season had just wrapped up and I had been hearing people talk about it nonstop. Call it blissful ignorance or just regular ignorance, but I had to figure out another plan of attack or risk couch-lock and a boring article.
If I were a video game character my life meter would have been blinking red at that point. I ordered an Uber and as he arrived, I was finishing the last of my Flav brand cherry ring edibles, clocking in at 100 milligrams of THC per package. I was going to need all the help I could get to make it through my day. We were halfway to my destination when I began to feel Flav’s calming effects take hold.
Hooters has always been my go-to restaurant for wings. It’s not particularly good or inexpensive but whenever I want chicken with a side of double entendres, I head to the nearest location. After surveying the menu and having a pep talk with my stomach, I decided to try their bacon-wrapped, Daytona-style wings without having any idea what that actually meant. Could it be a secret sauce inspired by their flagship location in Florida? Or was it yet another bad decision to add to the long list of mistakes I’d already made that day? Only time would tell.
It turns out Daytona sauce is just BBQ sauce mixed with Frank’s Red Hot and paprika but for a guy with the palate of a 5-year-old, anything wrapped in bacon is basically five-star cuisine. I did my best to finish the pile of chicken while men in ill-fitting jerseys jeered at the television screens covering every inch of available space. My hangover managed to get the best of me, however. I hobbled out of Hooters leaving three sad uneaten wings behind and made my way down East Katella Avenue toward the Honda Center.
The last time I cared about hockey was in the early 1990s. Emilio Estevez, along with a rag-tag group of misfits and Keenan Thompson’s “knuckle puck,” taught me that if you believe in yourself and have an overweight child to use as comic relief, anything is possible. Even if it means sending a bunch of children to their impending graves by playing against fully grown men from a country that thinks ketchup is spicy. Anyway, the success of The Mighty Ducks saw Disney starting a hockey franchise based off the movie–and then they sold the team in 2005. There’s no sign of Gordon Bombay or his legacy inside the arena, but that didn’t stop me from reliving the glory days when the Bash Brothers made mincemeat of anyone who dared to challenge their supremacy. From the nosebleed section, the game would have been better to watch on television but there’s a first time for everything. I just wish I would have thought about the temperature inside the Honda Center. It turns out hockey games are pretty cold due to the ice and stuff.
So, I didn’t finish my wings and there weren’t any fights, but I did get higher than Emilio’s brother on a school night. If you’d like to experience the euphoric bliss that comes after eating 100 mgs of THC on an empty stomach, check out Flav’s full lineup of cannabis confections at South Coast Safe Access (SCSA). Hooters may be headed toward a shallow grave in the #MeToo era so get those sexy wings while you can and as always, happy smoking!
SCSA is at 1900 E. Warner Ave., Unit A, Santa Ana, (949) 474-7272.
Hooters are everywhere; find the closest one to you at hooters.com.
Jefferson Matthew VanBilliard is a leo that enjoys all things cannabis and is just trying his best. He let us know that although the desert will always be his home you can find him on Fourth St. in Santa Ana battle rapping teenagers or at the local high school where he coaches girls varsity volleyball without anyone’s permission.