I’ve Been Called Worse

We were sitting at PinkBerry frozen yogurt enjoying our Sunday afternoon in San Diego, when right next door a line starts to wrap around the building. The line of people could only be described as Jersey Shore meets the Playboy Mansion. The average age of the people in line was probably 22. The line was made up of 75% guys wearing ironic t-shirts, fancy hats and swim trunks. The other 25% were barely dressed girls, wearing bikini tops, unbuttoned shorts and gigantic high heels. This was not line for after church sunday brunch. It was also not a costume party or a casting call line, both my wife Amanda’s guesses. The line had formed for a roof top pool party (Intervention) at the Hard Rock Hotel.

These people were getting ready to party.

Several hours later we were greeted by the same people we saw in line earlier, but this time they were leaving the party. As we walked down the streets of the Gaslamp District with Maggie in the stroller, we decided to turn people watching into a game. As people passed us we would guess whether they left the pool party or were physicians in town for the OB/GYN convention. This game was not difficult.

As we were playing this game a young shirtless guy stumbled up to Maggie in the stroller, and tried to give her a high five and rub her head. 99% of the time I don’t mind strangers talking to and high-fiving my kids, but this guy was too close and way too drunk.

Without breaking stride, I managed to shut the canopy down on this guy’s hand effectively blocking him from my daughter. I told him it was nap time for my little baby and we kept on moving. He didn’t appreciate my gesture or my comment, so he yells back at me, “You’re an ass…dad. You’re an ass dad.”

As we continued our walk down the street I turned to my wife and said, “If that guy thinks I’m an “AssDad,” then I must be doing something right.

Happy Parenting!

-Pete (The Ass Dad)

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