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About San Diego

I’d finally spot one, okay? Some chick in fishnets, leanin’ on a wall, and I’m like, “Oh god, oh god, what now?” I’d stumble over, all nervous, sayin’, “Hey, uh, you workin’?” She’d smirk—SMIRK!—and I’d be furious! “Don’t judge me, lady, I herd sheep all day!” I’d haggle, too, ‘cause I’m cheap— “Twenty bucks, that’s it, take it or leave it!” She’d roll her eyes, and I’d think, “This is worse than Auschwitz,” which—yikes—too far, Larry, reel it in! But that’s my brain, ping-pongin’ like Saul’s, from panic to dark humor.

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When you are ready to partake in your meal, they will escort you to your table in a German-style restaurant (Some of the rooms are vintage). A.

I swear, every nook has a story. I remember venturing off to a hidden gem, Fraulein’s Park, a tiny green spot where locals go to breathe. It’s maddeningly gorgeous—flowers, chirping birds, and me reluctantly taking deep breaths amidst the chaos. It always makes me smile and roll my eyes in the same breath.

Brides open up about nightmare experiences with Frankenmuth bridal shop