I had the feeling that today was going to be an uneventful day. I woke up on an uncomfortable couch, ate, talked to my roommate about typical roommate stuff, showered, and left the house with no destination in mind. Fortunately, the day was a fun one.
On the weekends, the public transportation system (MUNI) is limited and unreliable. Because of this, I walked up to 14th and Quintara to catch a bus to a happenin' area of town, The Haight. For those that don't know, San Francisco is filled with hills at an outrageous incline. There are hills that become so steep that public steps are built in order to ease the pain of a walker's calves. I walked up a set of about 100 steps in order to reach the bus terminal. As I reached the final step, I saw that the bus was leaving the station, so I ran at a blurring rate to catch it. After catching the bus, I noticed that my heart was beating at a rapid rate and my t-shirt was soaked in sweat. I looked like a fool, but I was cool with it.
When I arrived in "The Haight," I browsed around vintage clothing stores, book stores a record store and a shoe shop. I spent $20.50 on a flannel shirt and a green t-shirt that I immediately changed into. I bought Bukowski's, "The Postman" and Vonnegut's, "Cat's Cradle" at a small book store with a tiny selection. I'm glad that I did because, later on, I ended up meeting some cool people because of it.
After my time spent in "The Haight" became dull, I took the #33 bus to Valencia St., known as The Mission. There is a bar in that area of town that I've grown fond of called Zeitgeist. I couldn't remember where it was exactly, and decided to ask strangers for directions. The first guy that I asked seemed annoyed by my request. He said, "What the heck is Zeigeist? A bar? Oh, I don't drink. I'm a Mormon." I thanked him for his time and continued down Valencia St., where I met Noah and Kristal (or Crystal or Krystal or Ckristaal).
Noah made it abundantly clear that they were a couple. I respect that, even though I found it to be a little over-the-top. After asking them where my destination was located, they responded in unison, "We're going to the same place!" I took that to be a sign that maybe these people are crazy. It astonished me that they were not only able to say the same words together, but in the same fucking octave. It blew my mind. On the 7 block walk to Zeitgeist, we talked about how lovely Boston is and that Public Enemy is vastly overrated. Noah was very reserved in our 3-way conversation, but Kristal was very friendly and interested in what I had to say. We had an awkward departure once we arrived, much thanks to a collaborative effort between her over-protective boyfriend and the asshole of a doorman at the bar. I had a drink, talked to a few lame people and left.
I walked to 24th and Mission, which was quite a hike. My legs were hurting because of my excessive time spent at the gym, and the sun was gleaming down on my pale white face. I sucked it up and battled down the sidewalk.
As I sat waiting for the 48 bus to take me home, I talked with a "skateboarder kid" about the book in my hand. He was gliding back and forth on his skateboard as he talked to me about Kurt Vonnegut's, "Slaughterhouse-Five," a book that I haven't read yet. He spoke so passionately about Kurt Vonnegut's style of writing. I liked him because of it. I hated him at first for consistently whizzing by me on his board time and time again. I like him now though.
The bus arrived and we continued our conversation, which eventually lead to non-Vonnegut topics. He spent a semester at Berklee and finished his degree at Wesleyan, in Connecticut. When other people overheard that I had just moved here from Boston, other bus patrons were drilling me with a wide array of questions and comments such as: "Do you like it here more or do you like Boston?" or "Your accent sounds adorable." and other things to that effect. Good times.
Kyle the skateboarder got off the bus and shook my hand. He told me to visit him at his place of employment, a place that I already forget the name of. Time passed and another conversation was started with two gorgeous women sitting to my right. They both grew up in rural Massachusetts and were excited to hear that I was from the same area. I wasn't expecting to talk to them, and was really into my book, forcing me to answer their initial question in an embarassing way. Not only did I stutter badly, but I accidently spit in their direction. Noticing that they noticed, I said, "Okay, first off, can we go directly to laughing about me spitting at you?" They found it funny and we talked and talked about nothing I can remember. The more personable of the two said that she hopes to see me again some day. That made me smile.
My favorite interaction of all was with Jeff. We were waiting for the L train at West Portal as he tried to strike up a conversation with almost every girl that walked by, and to no avail. He said, "Not my day." and I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or not. I replied with an empty, default answer to the effect of, "Ya win some, ya lose some." or "We gotta work with what we've got." He took a liking to this, and we talked about redwood trees, Star Wars, Brazil, among many other things. It eventually got to a point where he reached in a bag and gave me a handful of weed. THIS WOULD NEVER HAPPEN IN BOSTON. EVER. I frantically put it in my breast pocket and he noticed. He said, "Yo, it's legal out here, man. Chill." He was a really laid back guy, speaking freely and at ease. He had just returned from a 20 country road trip and was pretty bummed out to be back. We exchanged phone numbers and agreed to grab a drink on Tuesday.
People in San Francisco are so friendly. It's intense
After reading through this a second time, I've decided that proof reading is a necessity.
