On Resting, and the Opposite of That
Day 6: Plans were made earlier in the week for a friend to show me the "sleazy underbelly" of San Francisco. The hours marched by, but not contact was made. It was a bit of a blessing in disguise. I've been running full speed for five days straight, and to be honest a day of downtime and short strolls in the park were just what I needed. Let me take this moment to repeat how awesome it was that I was next to the Golden Gate Park. There, moment taken. Shortly after dinner I got the call, and he chauffeured me out to Pacifica for dinner. I got a crash course on ten years of history (it had been at least that long since I last saw him.) I had dinner with him, his girlfriend, her girlfriend and her other boyfriend. and you couldn't ask for a cozier group of companions. Their house was at the end of a cul-de-sac. Redwood trees grew in their backyard, we saw deer walking through their drive way, and when you went out back you could the black hills surrounding you, as if looking up from the inside of a volcano. The hills were the steepest I'd yet seen, and one road bottomed out right on a rocky ledge by the sea. We stepped out of the car and let the sounds of the crashing surf wash over us. There was a presence in the air, a sense of something great and vast that swallowed me up. On the way back I watched the starry sky, and the brighter stars of the town, and the pitch black void of the Pacific dividing the two. It was an enchanted evening.
Day 7: One day more. Another day, another destiny. This never ending road to Adventure. So much to see and accomplish. Too much to explain; let me sum up.
Tasty Dim Sum for breakfast
One last walk in the Pacific
Exploring the ruins of the Sutro Baths
Seeing tankers cut through the waters of the Bay, watching the Golden Gate bridge grow larger as I walked the nature trails of Land's End.
Exploring Chinatown in my Jack Burton T-shirt.
Cutting through the dangerous parts of Market St.
Hot chai at Wicked Grounds, the S&M cafe
Spending a lot of money on three fabulous leather and fetish tops at Mr. S Leather.
One last kraken Dark and Stormy at Hobson's Choice.
Two people recognized my Jack Burton shirt!
My last stroll through the Golden Gate Park.
Reuniting with Seth and Clay at Smuggler's Cove, a "secret" bar modeled to look like the inside of a sailing ship. Dozens of exotic rum drinks, including the Dead Reckoning, which I hope to reproduce later)
Oyagi.
Oyagi means "dirty old man" according to Seth. The owner, Hideki, lives up to the title. I don't think I've had my chest grabbed that many times since ... well, I won't say. Seth is very good friends with the owner and the staff. Every visit he buys a pitcher of beer for the sushi chefs and Hideki. As a result, his service is top-notch and we dined on several dishes not on the normal menu. In addition to the divine salmon and tuna (yes, they had the white tuna and yes, I made That Face) we had beef wrapped asparagus, and braised pork belly, and more sliced beef, and ever full glasses of sake and plum wine. By the end of the night, Seth and Hideki and the sushi chef and I were playing rock-paper-scissors with a glass of beer for the loser. The next time I go to SF, and Oyagi. I'm going to tell them it's my birthday. I can't wait to see what happens then!
Day 7: One day more. Another day, another destiny. This never ending road to Adventure. So much to see and accomplish. Too much to explain; let me sum up.
Tasty Dim Sum for breakfast
One last walk in the Pacific
Exploring the ruins of the Sutro Baths
Seeing tankers cut through the waters of the Bay, watching the Golden Gate bridge grow larger as I walked the nature trails of Land's End.
Exploring Chinatown in my Jack Burton T-shirt.
Cutting through the dangerous parts of Market St.
Hot chai at Wicked Grounds, the S&M cafe
Spending a lot of money on three fabulous leather and fetish tops at Mr. S Leather.
One last kraken Dark and Stormy at Hobson's Choice.
Two people recognized my Jack Burton shirt!
My last stroll through the Golden Gate Park.
Reuniting with Seth and Clay at Smuggler's Cove, a "secret" bar modeled to look like the inside of a sailing ship. Dozens of exotic rum drinks, including the Dead Reckoning, which I hope to reproduce later)
Oyagi.
Oyagi means "dirty old man" according to Seth. The owner, Hideki, lives up to the title. I don't think I've had my chest grabbed that many times since ... well, I won't say. Seth is very good friends with the owner and the staff. Every visit he buys a pitcher of beer for the sushi chefs and Hideki. As a result, his service is top-notch and we dined on several dishes not on the normal menu. In addition to the divine salmon and tuna (yes, they had the white tuna and yes, I made That Face) we had beef wrapped asparagus, and braised pork belly, and more sliced beef, and ever full glasses of sake and plum wine. By the end of the night, Seth and Hideki and the sushi chef and I were playing rock-paper-scissors with a glass of beer for the loser. The next time I go to SF, and Oyagi. I'm going to tell them it's my birthday. I can't wait to see what happens then!