Vacation II
Although we drank frightening amounts of beer at Oktoberfest, split a bottle of wine with Nash at dinner, and had an Irish coffee (Schwulerin) and coffee with a shot of amoretto (me) on Saturday, we awoke Sunday morning with no hangovers whatsoever. In fact, we felt great! Great enough that we decided to walk across the Golden Gate Bridge, return to our hotel, then take the F train down to the Castro, where we figured we could have a few more alcoholic beverages among perverts like ourselves.
We had a very good (and totally overpriced) breakfast in our hotel restaurant. Schwulerin had a huge plate of fruit and French toast, and I had lox and cream cheese on a potato pancake (which they called smoked salmon and chived creamed cheese atop a potato galette). We were full of fat and carbohydrates and ready to tackle the Golden Gate when we left the restaurant.
It was a beautiful day for a walk across the bridge. I took this photo from the small parking lot and visitor's center which abuts the bridge on the southeast end:
Ach, du lieber!
Our walk was supposed to be just under four miles. I'd stupidly forgotten my knee brace, so our walk ended up being more like three miles. Fucking tendonitis. It's getting better, though.
It was windy, and my knee started to hurt, and I got vertigo a few times, but mostly the walk kicked ass. I'd love to do it again. Next time I'll wear a hat, though. The wind whipped my ears and made them sore. Boo hoo. I don't think you can really see my face in this photo, so I'll show you my whipped ears and wild hair:
I'm standing in front of the city:
So dramatic.
We took a remarkably clean scented Muni bus back to some street in the Marina, and then we hailed a cab. San Francisco has one of the best public transportation systems in the country, but it's also one of the smelliest. Sorry, SF, but it's true.
We went back to our hotel, dropped off the crap we'd bought at the bridge gift shop, then braved public transportation again. We took the F train to the Castro.
The F train got smelly when a homeless and insane looking man got on the bus. I felt bad for him because he obviously wasn't functioning mentally the way most of us do, and it sucked that he had to live on the streets because he was unable to fend for himself due to circumstances beyond his control, but goddamn, he smelled bad. Oh, so bad. I had to breathe through my collar. Everyone opened their windows. I was so happy to leave the the train, which we did at Castro and Market under the cover of the enormous rainbow flag set in the hill above that intersection.
We set off along Castro Street and looked at the storefronts. Schwulerin bought a watch from a very good looking man who sold her a Torque brand watch. He told her, "It's a new line we're carrying, which is why it's on sale for forty percent off." What a bargain! She, of course, bought it.
We decided to eat a late (2:30 pm) lunch at at very wonderful Thai restaurant called "Thai House". It was very good. We shared a bottle of wine and had noodles and beef and green beans. For dessert, we shared a serving of tea ice cream. Mmmmm.
We walked around a bit, then found a small bar off Castro called "The Mix". We saw women in the bar, so we decided to go in and have a few beers. We got seats next to the huge, open front window which was cool. Soon, a little yellow eyed drunk came and sat next to us. I'll let Schwulerin tell the rest of the story, because she tells it so well.
SCHWU: A guy who looked to be in his late forties approached us and offered to buy us the next round of beers. We politely refused, but he bought us each a beer anyway. He sat down beside SR and took her hand in order to read her lifeline. We protested his audacity, but he told us he was gay, from which, I guess, we were supposed to decide he was harmless. At one point he told SR that she should kiss me. SR was momentarily taken aback, but I quipped that it would cost him $5 to see a show like that. He mumbled a litany of other things he would be willing to pay $5 to see. Needless to say, we were not comfortable with him around. Before he could buy us another round, SR got up to go to the bar to get us a couple more beers. I took the opportunity to switch seats so that when SR returned, I would be sitting closer to our creepy new friend. I explained as I took my new seat that he was making my girl uncomfortable (I figured the tough lesbo thing would work in my favor), and although he had been very kind to buy us each a beer, we would prefer it if he left us alone. He put his arm around my shoulders and told me that he liked me as much as he liked SR, so the new seating arrangement would be fine. I pushed his hand off my shoulder and gave him a cold stare as I sneered, "I'm not so nice." He sat back for a moment as SR returned to my old seat. Again he reached for my hand. Leaning forward in as menancing a posture as I could muster, I looked him directly in the eye and simply growled, "That's enough." I held my stare until he looked away just to emphasize my point. Leaving a half finished domestic brew on the ledge, he abruptedly got up and left the bar. Crisis averted.
SR: She's so tough! RrrroooowwrrrRRRR!
Here is a picture of the view from the window of the bar:
We got good and drunk and took a cab home. The End.
COMING SOON....CHINATOWN AND FISHERMAN'S WHARF! WOO HOO!
We had a very good (and totally overpriced) breakfast in our hotel restaurant. Schwulerin had a huge plate of fruit and French toast, and I had lox and cream cheese on a potato pancake (which they called smoked salmon and chived creamed cheese atop a potato galette). We were full of fat and carbohydrates and ready to tackle the Golden Gate when we left the restaurant.
It was a beautiful day for a walk across the bridge. I took this photo from the small parking lot and visitor's center which abuts the bridge on the southeast end:
Ach, du lieber!
Our walk was supposed to be just under four miles. I'd stupidly forgotten my knee brace, so our walk ended up being more like three miles. Fucking tendonitis. It's getting better, though.
It was windy, and my knee started to hurt, and I got vertigo a few times, but mostly the walk kicked ass. I'd love to do it again. Next time I'll wear a hat, though. The wind whipped my ears and made them sore. Boo hoo. I don't think you can really see my face in this photo, so I'll show you my whipped ears and wild hair:
I'm standing in front of the city:
So dramatic.
We took a remarkably clean scented Muni bus back to some street in the Marina, and then we hailed a cab. San Francisco has one of the best public transportation systems in the country, but it's also one of the smelliest. Sorry, SF, but it's true.
We went back to our hotel, dropped off the crap we'd bought at the bridge gift shop, then braved public transportation again. We took the F train to the Castro.
The F train got smelly when a homeless and insane looking man got on the bus. I felt bad for him because he obviously wasn't functioning mentally the way most of us do, and it sucked that he had to live on the streets because he was unable to fend for himself due to circumstances beyond his control, but goddamn, he smelled bad. Oh, so bad. I had to breathe through my collar. Everyone opened their windows. I was so happy to leave the the train, which we did at Castro and Market under the cover of the enormous rainbow flag set in the hill above that intersection.
We set off along Castro Street and looked at the storefronts. Schwulerin bought a watch from a very good looking man who sold her a Torque brand watch. He told her, "It's a new line we're carrying, which is why it's on sale for forty percent off." What a bargain! She, of course, bought it.
We decided to eat a late (2:30 pm) lunch at at very wonderful Thai restaurant called "Thai House". It was very good. We shared a bottle of wine and had noodles and beef and green beans. For dessert, we shared a serving of tea ice cream. Mmmmm.
We walked around a bit, then found a small bar off Castro called "The Mix". We saw women in the bar, so we decided to go in and have a few beers. We got seats next to the huge, open front window which was cool. Soon, a little yellow eyed drunk came and sat next to us. I'll let Schwulerin tell the rest of the story, because she tells it so well.
SCHWU: A guy who looked to be in his late forties approached us and offered to buy us the next round of beers. We politely refused, but he bought us each a beer anyway. He sat down beside SR and took her hand in order to read her lifeline. We protested his audacity, but he told us he was gay, from which, I guess, we were supposed to decide he was harmless. At one point he told SR that she should kiss me. SR was momentarily taken aback, but I quipped that it would cost him $5 to see a show like that. He mumbled a litany of other things he would be willing to pay $5 to see. Needless to say, we were not comfortable with him around. Before he could buy us another round, SR got up to go to the bar to get us a couple more beers. I took the opportunity to switch seats so that when SR returned, I would be sitting closer to our creepy new friend. I explained as I took my new seat that he was making my girl uncomfortable (I figured the tough lesbo thing would work in my favor), and although he had been very kind to buy us each a beer, we would prefer it if he left us alone. He put his arm around my shoulders and told me that he liked me as much as he liked SR, so the new seating arrangement would be fine. I pushed his hand off my shoulder and gave him a cold stare as I sneered, "I'm not so nice." He sat back for a moment as SR returned to my old seat. Again he reached for my hand. Leaning forward in as menancing a posture as I could muster, I looked him directly in the eye and simply growled, "That's enough." I held my stare until he looked away just to emphasize my point. Leaving a half finished domestic brew on the ledge, he abruptedly got up and left the bar. Crisis averted.
SR: She's so tough! RrrroooowwrrrRRRR!
Here is a picture of the view from the window of the bar:
We got good and drunk and took a cab home. The End.
COMING SOON....CHINATOWN AND FISHERMAN'S WHARF! WOO HOO!