LJ Idol Season 8, Week 22: "Bridge"
"Sight...seeing?"
They don't make TV shows about high schools like mine.
My alma mater was a private Christian school whose entire K-12 population was under 300. The high school was a grand total of seventy-five students--yet somehow, we had seven Davids, five Chrises, five Daniels and four Mikes. I graduated from a class of thirteen; of the other twelve, I believe I know the whereabouts of eleven of them.
As one might imagine, having a prom was rather out of the question. (Well, it was actually impossible for an entirely different reason: the church denomination with which we were affiliated forbade dancing.) However, a yearly Banquet in the springtime took its place. For my senior year, the plan involved a bus tour of the city, followed by dinner at an island restaurant in the Marina.
I wound up going stag, though it certainly wasn't for lack of trying; my credit card had charges from several florists on it to prove that. (Though the ones I had bought for Tess ended up going to Lydia, which forced me to do some creative improvisation...) But if they were going to turn me down, I wanted them to see what they missed out on. Rented the perfect tux, drove my Dad's car, arrived in style...and promptly had my hair blown apart by the winds of Pier 39.
We made our way onto the bus, where I shared a seat with a freshman, Danielle, who had been in my carpool for years. Strictly platonic, but better than sitting alone. The bus made its way from the sun-drenched Fisherman's Wharf toward the northernmost point of the city. I recognized the Presidio and Fort Point, but couldn't really get any good pictures out the window.
Eventually, the bus stopped. We looked out towards the water...and had a hard time seeing where the water ended and the fog began. I knew where we were, but something was missing. Fortunately, our tour guide was quick on his feet.
"Well, once upon a time, there used to be a bridge here..."
That's right: we were no more than 300 feet away from the Golden Gate Bridge, the largest suspension bridge this side of the Mississippi river...and we couldn't see it.
Welcome to San Francisco, folks.
Fortunately, the rest of the night went much better; we got some great pictures of the city from Treasure Island (across the *other* bridge), I got my first taste of filet mignon, and we all made memories to last a lifetime.
I'm glad I went, even flying solo. I just know it would've been more fun if I'd had a date.
Author's notes: It's another intersection week: my partner, the lovely and talented sarcasmoqueen, wrote about "The Straw that Stirs the Drink", linked above.