Excerpt:
SAN DIEGO - It was just around midnight Tuesday night, and the outdoor courtyard at Dick's Last Resort was throbbing with the rowdy energy of a spring break bacchanal. There was loud rock music blaring out of the stereo speakers, and the air was filled with the distinct and somewhat revolting aroma of deep-fried bar food, cigarette smoke and spilled beer.
Dick's is the sort of bar-restaurant ideally suited for Super Bowl week mischief, because it has a down-and-dirty roadhouse feel to it. The waiters, waitresses and bartenders are charmingly rude, and the wood floors are covered with sand and all sorts of indistinguishable debris. The clientele on this evening is a fascinating mix of twenty-something college kids, thirty-something conventioneers and 40-something Super Bowl high-rollers.
Yet there was one table in Dick's courtyard Tuesday night that was noticeably different from the others. There were six young men at the table and one young woman, and while they were drinking like everyone else in the room, there was something all too serious going on at this table that let you know that their thoughts were a long way from the mindless frivolity of Super Bowl week.
Maybe it was the close-cropped "barracks haircuts" that gave them away. All the men's heads were cut in that familiar look of a professional soldier, skin-close on the sides, and on top a tight shock of hair that resembled new shoe-brush bristles.
"We're Marines," one man told me. "And tomorrow we're boarding a ship for . . . well . . . I really can't tell you where, but you know."
Of course we knew. In less than an hour, they would report back to a ship docked along the Southern California coast, then on Wednesday head across the Pacific Ocean, bound for a potential war in Iraq. So this was no Super Bowl party for them. This was their last night out on the town. One Marine was saying goodbye to his wife. The others were not so lucky. They all just sat around the table, throwing back beers and wrestling with the sobering uncertainty of the rest of their lives.
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