Monday May 2, around noontime

Going through the Mr. Shasta Recreational area, we passed by the sign for The Basshole. We were sooooo there. I mean we HAD to, especially after eating a crapload of Dennys-esque franchise food fare. After we ordered food, my brother immediately began scrambling for quarters to go play the Big Buck Hunter arcade game (pic) and my sister-n-law went off to pick songs off the jukebox (Bon Jovi's, Livin' on a Prayer. ew.)

Wood paneled on the inside, it had a big bass hanging on the wall, a tackle and bait shop in the back (where you could also pick up your Basshole T-shirts), a pool table, an electronic dart game and a big screen TV in the back tuned to the Classic Boxing channel. This place was grand.

They served me my diet Coke in a Fat Tire pint glass, which they reluctantly agreed to sell to me (for $2!) after I asked to buy it. I gave it to my sweetie, because for some reason I thought already had one, and therefore he would have a pair – a his'n'hers, so to speak. My misremembering backfired on me again; he never had one to begin with. That would have been sooooo cute though.