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Wandered up here by accident.

Saw the sign by the elevators in the Marriott (at Marriott Gaslamp, 660 K Street, 619-446-6086) down here in the Gaslamp, and, zzzipp! Suddenly I’m walking out on the 9th floor, onto the roof patio, and looking down at the ballpark and across the bay.


Altitude Sky Lounge. Whew.


The air ain’t thin up here, it’s thick with more Beautiful People than I’ve seen in a long time. Feel kinda, well, a man could get used to this.


I mean, post-sunset, perfect, if you’ve got the lucre.


“Have a happy hour?” I ask this big burly guy, Steven. Ex-military. “Ambassador/Security Supervisor,” as his card says.


“Sure,” he says. “It can be quite a deal.”

He says happy hour’s every day five to seven and all day Sunday.

“There are cheaper places around here,” he says, “but we have no cover and no dress code, so it’s more relaxed up here.”

He points to the appetizer menu on the wall. Seems like most of the happy hour options are flatbreads. Do we mean pizza? Guess we do. Everything is normally 16 buckeroos, but half price in HH.

Like, BBQ rotisserie chicken with caramelized onion, pepper jack cheese, and cilantro. Or rock shrimp and avocado with chorizo, roasted peppers, and jack cheese.

So, say $8 for your flatbread, $4 for a HH beer, the free extras: feeling über cool, the real cool view out over Hawaii to Japan, or, closer to home, home base right below.

Petco Park.

No reason why you couldn’t watch a whole ballgame in season from a real skybox.


It's all in the Gaslamp Marriott

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