Brooke and Stacy were in town this weekend. On Saturday, a night of fun was looking unlikely because Mark was too tired to go out. By the time Stacy made it over at 10:30, Mark was lying down on the couch, poised for expiration. Even after much cajoling, Mark proved immobile.
Finally we left Mark alone, and the three of us went to "The Backdoor" in Old Sacramento. We were not sure if this was our final destination, but we enjoyed the live singing and engaging atmosphere. After a round of drinks, we embarked on a mission of high-adventure.
We decided to try to give some milk away.
We went immediately to Safeway and purchased 2 gallons of milk and some clear plastic cups. One gallon was whole milk (Lucerne) and one gallon was non-fat milk (Dairy Glen). This, we figured, would give our audience a choice.
Before we were even out of the parking lot, we had our first takers! A group of punk kids were loitering in and outside of a station wagon. We pulled into a spot next to them and jumped out of the car, milk jugs in hand.
"Milk?" Brooke asked. "Would you care for some cold milk?"The punks did not react immediately, but we definitely had their attention.
"We have non-fat or whole milk" I urged.
The punks went for the whole milk...well, at least four of them did.
We began walking east along J Street towards Am/Pm. We asked everyone we saw if they would like some milk. Perhaps 15% of the people agreed to have some.
We made our way past the front of Harlows. Patrons were sitting in the outside courtyard smoking. Some also enjoyed a drink of milk. We next encountered two homeless men, one of whom accepted some milk. Both wanted money. We walked by Centro, which was closed, and offered a few pedestrians some milk. The taxi driver didn't want any. The milk give-away hit a dry spot at this time and we didn't give any milk away for several blocks, not in front of Carrows, Am/Pm, the Galleria or Lyons. We passed in front of the Limelight and were unable to give any milk away to the women leaving there. Many, many people were claiming to be lactose intolerant. I was surprised by just how tolerant they were.
The scariest moment of the night was asking a tattooed guy in a 280Z if he wanted milk. He said no. We thanked him and left quickly.
Soon we were heading back along the same path. We encountered a large group pouring out of Harlows this time, and we offered milk to everyone.
Brooke convinced one stubborn chap to finally try some milk, but only after each of us drank some in front of him...and showed him our tongues. I don't think he enjoyed that milk much, but it was rich in calcium, so it did his body good.
We met up with a receptive group as we neared my home, and they even posed with us to take some photos. In fact, one of them pulled a video camera out of his van, and taped us drinking together.
We got home around 2:15 am, with about one gallon of milk remaining, split evenly between the two jugs. The whole adventure had taken about an hour. We congratulated ourselves on a job well done and had a drink.