NorCal Summer, Distilled

E had friends in town from Georgia (SoCo, not Vodka) last weekend, so we spent the weekend being good Californian hosts.

We threw a backyard barbeque where everyone ate too much beef and summer vegetables (mmmm...heirloom tomatoes). We took them to super-fresh, super-authentic sushi where we drank sake and ate too much. We played Asshole 'til 2 AM (during which time, of course, we drank too much). We went to Santa Cruz for a one night stay-over, visited a couple of beaches, played beach volleyball, did beach yoga, and went wine tasting.

Saturday early afternoon we headed out to the beach. B wanted a secluded, non-touristy beach, where she could lay out naked. E and I, wanting to be good hosts, researched the nude beaches in the area and found one that looked pretty good.

Unfortunately, when we arrived it was windy and cold. Very windy and cold. Way too windy and cold to be taking off layers of clothing. But B was determined, so she headed down the path to what looked like a more protected area of the beach. I caught a glimpse of a naked man. "Oh, it must be more protected from the wind down there, why don't we head back down."

Everyone followed me. Yup, that enclave of the beach sure is secluded. Turns out, we weren't the first people to figure out that it was private. We walked down the path to be greeted by the view of two men having sex on the beach. 30 yards away, another man was intently watching them. Surprised (although we probably shouldn't have been), we quickly retreated to a different area of the beach.

Welcome to California! Food, Wine, Beaches, and Sex-in-the-open. Everything you've heard in Georgia is true. Do we know how to host our guests or what?