Ken and Callie’s

Unlike Dave H. (whoever that is, sounds like butt cream if you ask me), I have spent many a wonderful night at Ken and Callie’s new house. You see, I always plan ahead when I am going to visit. Question such as, «Will there be a bed available, or should I bring an air-​mattress?», or, «Can I help by picking something up at the store?» These are the questions that are asked by true friends. Of the times I have had to sleep on the floor, well, those were my fault, and I am certainly not so rude as to wag fingers at others when I am at fault.
On to the music. It is always wonderful. I swear, Ken can read minds! Delightful dance mixes! Inspired indie-​rock! MORBID METAL. Aw yeah.
Also, I have a 6 year old daughter. She has been having a really difficult time with math since she entered Kindergarten. With reading and writing, she does quite well, but math? Frankly, she struggles, but in one weekend… ONE WEEKEND, Callie not only taught her the basics, but now she can do algebraic equations, and Callie taught her how to speak Romanian!
Ken and Callie’s new house offers spectacular views, fresh air, delectable cuisine, «down time», fun just for fun’s sake, art (!), and an endless flood cooler of cold beer.
Needless to say, I am going back!
⁵⁄₅.

My wife and I stayed here for New Year’s. Generally impressed with the old location in Soquel, we were excited about this even more remote location.
As always, Ken and Callie presented themselves as a nice couple. As expected, the food was pretty good and they didn’t run out of beer.
First of all, the location. Where the fuck is Royal Oaks? Well, it’s as close to Prunedale as it is Watsonville. Where are these places? Exactly. This wasn’t a problem for us — we were excited to «get away from it all.»
As we FINALLY arrived, we first noticed the «guest house». It looked pretty cute from the outside. Once inside we found little to no furniture, some boxes, and a room filled with musical equipment. Weird. It was about 5 minutes before the smell of leaking propane became so intense that we felt like a couple of [insert insensitive WWII reference].
We entered the «main house» through the «front door» which was clearly on the side. One could even call this the back since it’s facing an immediate hillside. The house was well-​lit with natural light (except for the kitchen… read-​on). Too many stairs for our liking. If you have bad knees, you’ll want to avoid this split-​level nightmare.
As we entered their kitchen I couldn’t help but notice a couple of things. First, on the cabinets, drawers, and cupboards — handles or no handles? WILL YOU PLEASE MAKE UP YOUR MINDS!!! Secondly, we wondered if their double-​oven even worked, as it looked more like a plastic prop that was shoved into a differently sized, pre-​existing cavity (the outer perimeter gave this away). Lastly, something was off about the lighting. My wife spotted it — they had some transparent earthy-​looking curtains up on 2 of the kitchen windows. This would have looked nice except that one window had 2 curtains, while the other window of the exact same size had only one. Tacky.
We were excited to see the deck that we heard so much about. Our first impression may have been compromised as there was another man who was staying there for the evening urinating right off said deck. Anyway, it’s mostly square and appears to have been somewhat recently built… by retarded children using leftover lumber and chicken wire. My wife slipped on this perilous patio of sorts, falling onto her tail-​bone and head. Nearly a week later, she still has a headache and a pain in the ass. If we ever return, we’ll be avoiding this treacherous tree-​fort.
Dinner was served late, the countdown was missed by a few seconds, and we finally got to sleep. For reasons not worth mentioning, I slept on the floor in the closet of one of the two guest rooms. What difference does it make when you don’t have a bed in the first place?
In the morning, I found myself awake and showered before either of the hosts. In pursuit of coffee, I came to terms with the fact that I was going to have to get through the mounds of dishes, half-​full beer cans, and old food left in and around the sink and counters. After making a half an hour dent on this, lo and behold, Callie wanders in.
Barefoot, hair in every direction, make-​up running down her face, and in only what I can assume is her casual nightwear, our hostess looked like a cross between Alice Cooper and Cher trying out for a dancing zombie extra in Thriller. «You don’t have to do that,» she said to me. So nice of her.
Another 30 minutes or so passes and I have my first cup of coffee. By this point Ken is up. He asks if I would like sugar. I would have expected him to know my coffee preference from my last visit :’(but it’s clear this house has changed them. «No, but do you have any milk?»
«There should be some in the fridge.»
Naturally, I helped myself. Sure enough, there was some milk in the fridge. Of course, it was expired. When? THE YEAR BEFORE! I FUCKING SWEAR TO YOU!!!
So here I am in 2011 drinking coffee with milk from 2010 wondering how fast I can pack the car and get home. It’s around now that my wife wakes up and enters the kitchen. She’s wearing a bandage on her finger from something that happened the night before. I asked her what happened and Callie gave her a look like «Don’t you say anything!»
Apparently, all that happened was a bug bit her. Ken and Callie’s house has bugs. So what, who cares, right? But then Callie was concerned that if I found out that my wife was harmed by one of these bugs then they’d get a bad Unilocal review. Oh, so now their trying all of the sudden? WTF!!! Frankly, the bugs didn’t bother me. I like camping. However, what does bother me is Callie’s deceitful (to me) and threatening (to my wife) behavior. Unprofessional and embarrassing at best!
Some goddamn time in the afternoon we’re having «breakfast» of like eggs and bacon and shit. Who cares? Not me.
Then we’re all down in the «big room» when Ken complained about how his new flat-​screen TV isn’t HD enough. What an ass!
All in all, a horrible, horrible time!