Saving People, Hunting Things, Eating Burritos and Ice Cream
It was raining for three days straight, but somehow kroki_refur made it stop. You know Refur, don't you? She does those hilarious Supernatural episode reviews. And is generally a hoot and a half.
Well, it just so happens that San Francisco is in between England and New Zealand, which meant she could spend nearly seven hours in the airport...or TOTALLY HANG OUT WITH ME FOR A COUPLE HOURS.
Unfortunately, she chose to spend her time in the airport marveling over the size of our canned beverages.
Okay, no she didn't.
Refur called me after she got through Customs, and I raced to BART, impatiently waiting for the shuttle. I thought I was late, wasting precious time. I didn't know how long she would be waiting, and I had no way of contacting her. She had no way of contacting me, either, unless she borrowed a stranger's cell phone. We would both just have to hope for a lack of DISASTER.
As I rushed to exit the 16th and Mission station, I saw to my left a girl who seemed to resemble Refur (she had sent me a picture), but I didn't think it could be her because I thought she'd have gotten there already. I rushed up the escalator, expecting to see her waiting for me at the top, and she was not there. I turned around and waited, wondering if this strange girl was actually her.
It was. WE HAD GOTTEN TO THE STATION AT THE EXACT SAME TIME. SHE FROM THE AIRPORT AND I FROM OAKLAND. WHAT ARE THE FUCKING ODDS.
We hugged, and then we were off, for our time was short. Her shirt read, "Do not disturb. Already disturbed." We walked down 16th St, and I threw my arms up and cried, "This is San Francisco!" She'd never been!
We passed a random black woman who said, "Namaste! I like your colors!"
"Thank you," I said, clad in green and yellow. Just a few days ago at the bank, the teller-who was also black, now that I think about it, although that's probably just coincidence-greeted me with "Namaste." Maybe I'm hyperaware because of my recent racist encounters, but did someone say "Namaste" on Grey's Anatomy or something? Is this like the way people always say "Konichiwa" when they meet a Japanese person because it's the only Japanese they know other than "Domo arigato"? I'm sure they're trying to be nice, but it makes me uncomfortable. Especially because they just say it. "Namaste" is supposed to be accompanied by a bow; that's what it means. At least fold your hands or something. Make a real effort. It doesn't just mean "Hey, what's up?" Honestly, I think if they had just folded their hands as a sign of respect, I wouldn't have been thrown because, in all likelihood, I had never heard the word just tossed out like that in all my life.
But back to the story proper, Refur is talking about bridges. I told her I was sorry we didn't have time to go see the Golden Gate Bridge-which SOME PEOPLE don't think exists-but she had seen it perfectly clearly from the plane! No fog or anything.
We walked down Valencia, and I led her into the alley with all the murals. I went further down than I had before; there are some really interesting ones. I noticed that some had been tagged but were painted over. Someone tagged a goat. Most of them were respected and left alone, though. I goaded Refur into taking pictures because I love her picture posts. "You have to take San Francisco back with you," I said.
Down a couple blocks, we hit Taqueria El Sabor. Now ever since I discovered that British people don't know what burritos are, I can't take anything for granted. I had asked Refur if she'd ever had a burrito before, and she had...IN SCOTLAND. Come on, you guys. That doesn't even count. You can't make a burrito out of haggis or whatever.
She decided that the Super Veggie Burrito sounded great, and I went with a chicken burrito. Lunch was on me, for, lo, she had given me much entertainment and laughter for free, often cheering me up when I really needed it, and that was worth a burrito.
We got a table. Refur appeared perplexed by all the foil surrounding her lunch. She carefully unwrapped all of it. Yes, all of it. I was too confused to stop her. She assessed her unwrapped burrito and declared, "I think I'm going to like this."
That is the face of a woman who has only ever eaten a burrito in Scotland.
My burrito was also very good, largely because of the guacamole. Refur loved guacamole, but it was very expensive in England. Not so much in California, where we grow avocadoes. They do not grow avocadoes in England. She thought it'd be funny to try, though.
Refur commented on my lack of hero-worship. I had indeed promised that I would simply be continually freaking out over being in her very presence, but that was not happening! She was just a regular girl like any other. Online, she seems like a hyperkinetic SPN-obsessed pixie, but in reality, she is somewhat more subdued and British. I asked her burning questions like "Do you watch anything BESIDES Supernatural?" and "How long does it TAKE you to do your episode reviews?" Man, I didn't even bring my DVDs for her to sign!
She commented that it was kind of a messy meal, which is when I told her that she wasn't supposed to have unwrapped the whole thing. "You didn't tell me the custom!" she cried. She thought the foil was only for keeping it warm, not also for holding it together. She attempted to improvise after the fact, wrapping the crumpled foil around the rest of her burrito. It was not as effective.
A garish Mexican song played loudly, and I revealed that the real reason I'd brought her here was because of the jukebox. She turned around. "Real Americana," she commented. "Mexicana!" I corrected.
Her veggie burrito was a little too super for her, so she got some extra foil to wrap up the rest to eat on the way to New Zealand.
Our next stop was Paxton Gate, full of curios. I showed her around the store. I think she liked the skunk skeleton dressed as a nun the best. That or the crucified mouse named Oh Holy Christ. The duck with an alligator head freaked her out.
She had a fondness for maps, however, and became entranced by a black globe with an 18th century view of the world. They barely knew the shape of Australia, had no idea what do with the top of North America, and didn't know Antarctica existed. It was one of the few things in the store that wouldn't raise eyes at Customs, so she bought it with her magical debit card.
The store had rocks as well, and as a geologist, she appreciated that.
Next door was the pirate store! I took her in and told her to say hi to the fish. And made sure she saw the rules.
The man at the counter went to the back as soon as we got out of the fish theater. Curses. We were there at a time when students were there, so he was a little occupied. I explained to Refur that the place was a tutoring program for kids to learn to write, and the pirate store was the front. I waited for the guy to come back.
Refur was standing in the right spot, turned away from me. I raised my camera and got it ready. The guy behind the counter gave me a look, and I nodded knowingly.
"Hey," he said to Refur, "have you read that sign about the mops?" She looked. He pulled the rope.
Oh, you just got MOPPED.
Refur was quite surprised. And angry. "You knew!" she yelled. "You knew that would happen!" Well, yeah. She could not believe I had mops dropped on her. She attempted to revenge herself upon me!
She...succeeded.
And now I have a new Facebook profile picture.
The guy threw the mopheads back into the box as I explained that I'd only discovered that the last time I'd gone there, so I was looking forward to doing it to someone on purpose. I tossed the mop on my head into the box in one try, and he was impressed! "You sure this is the first time you've done this?"
Refur still could not believe that I dropped mops on her.
She looked around the rest of the store, continually being amused by everything. "I could spend hours in here!" It was true; there was a lot of hilarity. I did a dramatic reading of Just Buy a Shovel that, sadly, did not convince her to buy a shovel. It did convince me, however, that I should do more dramatic readings of signs in the pirate store.
Well, it just so happens that San Francisco is in between England and New Zealand, which meant she could spend nearly seven hours in the airport...or TOTALLY HANG OUT WITH ME FOR A COUPLE HOURS.
Unfortunately, she chose to spend her time in the airport marveling over the size of our canned beverages.
Okay, no she didn't.
Refur called me after she got through Customs, and I raced to BART, impatiently waiting for the shuttle. I thought I was late, wasting precious time. I didn't know how long she would be waiting, and I had no way of contacting her. She had no way of contacting me, either, unless she borrowed a stranger's cell phone. We would both just have to hope for a lack of DISASTER.
As I rushed to exit the 16th and Mission station, I saw to my left a girl who seemed to resemble Refur (she had sent me a picture), but I didn't think it could be her because I thought she'd have gotten there already. I rushed up the escalator, expecting to see her waiting for me at the top, and she was not there. I turned around and waited, wondering if this strange girl was actually her.
It was. WE HAD GOTTEN TO THE STATION AT THE EXACT SAME TIME. SHE FROM THE AIRPORT AND I FROM OAKLAND. WHAT ARE THE FUCKING ODDS.
We hugged, and then we were off, for our time was short. Her shirt read, "Do not disturb. Already disturbed." We walked down 16th St, and I threw my arms up and cried, "This is San Francisco!" She'd never been!
We passed a random black woman who said, "Namaste! I like your colors!"
"Thank you," I said, clad in green and yellow. Just a few days ago at the bank, the teller-who was also black, now that I think about it, although that's probably just coincidence-greeted me with "Namaste." Maybe I'm hyperaware because of my recent racist encounters, but did someone say "Namaste" on Grey's Anatomy or something? Is this like the way people always say "Konichiwa" when they meet a Japanese person because it's the only Japanese they know other than "Domo arigato"? I'm sure they're trying to be nice, but it makes me uncomfortable. Especially because they just say it. "Namaste" is supposed to be accompanied by a bow; that's what it means. At least fold your hands or something. Make a real effort. It doesn't just mean "Hey, what's up?" Honestly, I think if they had just folded their hands as a sign of respect, I wouldn't have been thrown because, in all likelihood, I had never heard the word just tossed out like that in all my life.
But back to the story proper, Refur is talking about bridges. I told her I was sorry we didn't have time to go see the Golden Gate Bridge-which SOME PEOPLE don't think exists-but she had seen it perfectly clearly from the plane! No fog or anything.
We walked down Valencia, and I led her into the alley with all the murals. I went further down than I had before; there are some really interesting ones. I noticed that some had been tagged but were painted over. Someone tagged a goat. Most of them were respected and left alone, though. I goaded Refur into taking pictures because I love her picture posts. "You have to take San Francisco back with you," I said.
Down a couple blocks, we hit Taqueria El Sabor. Now ever since I discovered that British people don't know what burritos are, I can't take anything for granted. I had asked Refur if she'd ever had a burrito before, and she had...IN SCOTLAND. Come on, you guys. That doesn't even count. You can't make a burrito out of haggis or whatever.
She decided that the Super Veggie Burrito sounded great, and I went with a chicken burrito. Lunch was on me, for, lo, she had given me much entertainment and laughter for free, often cheering me up when I really needed it, and that was worth a burrito.
We got a table. Refur appeared perplexed by all the foil surrounding her lunch. She carefully unwrapped all of it. Yes, all of it. I was too confused to stop her. She assessed her unwrapped burrito and declared, "I think I'm going to like this."
That is the face of a woman who has only ever eaten a burrito in Scotland.
My burrito was also very good, largely because of the guacamole. Refur loved guacamole, but it was very expensive in England. Not so much in California, where we grow avocadoes. They do not grow avocadoes in England. She thought it'd be funny to try, though.
Refur commented on my lack of hero-worship. I had indeed promised that I would simply be continually freaking out over being in her very presence, but that was not happening! She was just a regular girl like any other. Online, she seems like a hyperkinetic SPN-obsessed pixie, but in reality, she is somewhat more subdued and British. I asked her burning questions like "Do you watch anything BESIDES Supernatural?" and "How long does it TAKE you to do your episode reviews?" Man, I didn't even bring my DVDs for her to sign!
She commented that it was kind of a messy meal, which is when I told her that she wasn't supposed to have unwrapped the whole thing. "You didn't tell me the custom!" she cried. She thought the foil was only for keeping it warm, not also for holding it together. She attempted to improvise after the fact, wrapping the crumpled foil around the rest of her burrito. It was not as effective.
A garish Mexican song played loudly, and I revealed that the real reason I'd brought her here was because of the jukebox. She turned around. "Real Americana," she commented. "Mexicana!" I corrected.
Her veggie burrito was a little too super for her, so she got some extra foil to wrap up the rest to eat on the way to New Zealand.
Our next stop was Paxton Gate, full of curios. I showed her around the store. I think she liked the skunk skeleton dressed as a nun the best. That or the crucified mouse named Oh Holy Christ. The duck with an alligator head freaked her out.
She had a fondness for maps, however, and became entranced by a black globe with an 18th century view of the world. They barely knew the shape of Australia, had no idea what do with the top of North America, and didn't know Antarctica existed. It was one of the few things in the store that wouldn't raise eyes at Customs, so she bought it with her magical debit card.
The store had rocks as well, and as a geologist, she appreciated that.
Next door was the pirate store! I took her in and told her to say hi to the fish. And made sure she saw the rules.
The man at the counter went to the back as soon as we got out of the fish theater. Curses. We were there at a time when students were there, so he was a little occupied. I explained to Refur that the place was a tutoring program for kids to learn to write, and the pirate store was the front. I waited for the guy to come back.
Refur was standing in the right spot, turned away from me. I raised my camera and got it ready. The guy behind the counter gave me a look, and I nodded knowingly.
"Hey," he said to Refur, "have you read that sign about the mops?" She looked. He pulled the rope.
Oh, you just got MOPPED.
Refur was quite surprised. And angry. "You knew!" she yelled. "You knew that would happen!" Well, yeah. She could not believe I had mops dropped on her. She attempted to revenge herself upon me!
She...succeeded.
And now I have a new Facebook profile picture.
The guy threw the mopheads back into the box as I explained that I'd only discovered that the last time I'd gone there, so I was looking forward to doing it to someone on purpose. I tossed the mop on my head into the box in one try, and he was impressed! "You sure this is the first time you've done this?"
Refur still could not believe that I dropped mops on her.
She looked around the rest of the store, continually being amused by everything. "I could spend hours in here!" It was true; there was a lot of hilarity. I did a dramatic reading of Just Buy a Shovel that, sadly, did not convince her to buy a shovel. It did convince me, however, that I should do more dramatic readings of signs in the pirate store.