Day 4 of Trip – Wake-Up San Francisco!

Like their organic food, vintage clothing, and analog instruments, leave it to hippies and liberal scenesters to project value onto things that produce the same old shit. Being from Baltimore, it’s pretty difficult for me to be anything less than amazed when I visit another city but somehow San Francisco managed to pull this off during the first of two days I have entirely devoted to experiencing it. On second thought, I must applaud you…

Having seen that the weather report called for a sunny day, I made my way down to the Fisherman’s Wharf to check out what all the fuss is about and grab lunch at Scoma’s. Before I left, my guitar teacher had me promise that I would try Scoma’s Cioppino Alla Pescatore, and gave me some money to buy him and I a shirt from the restaurant. I informed him at the time that I didn’t really like seafood, but as the picture might indicate, I ended up accomplishing this. Coincidentally, my opinion of seafood has not changed.

Leaving the restaurant, I found that the weather had turned cold and the sky was now dark. I felt tiny sporadic drops of water like you always do right before it rains and decided to head back and maybe visit a museum or something. Walking around in circles for about an hour, no cabs were to be found. I ended up doing the same walk I did the first night here all the way to the hotel. Did I mention that about half way back, the sun came back out? I suppose I’ll spare you this one, Frisco.

By the time I got back, it was time to head to the Giants game. I put some warmer clothes on and headed to the subway station. Because one isn’t enough, San Francisco has like 78 different rail systems. To get to the ballpark, I had to take the MUNI which I’m almost certain is the worst subway line in the history of man. Aztecs made rope bridges that are better than this. Since there were no change machines and an Asian woman in a kiosk whose job it is to answer no to the same question every couple seconds, I had to purchase a card for a different line in order to get the $1.50 in change to deposit in the turnstile like you would a ride outside of K-Mart. I guess people in San Francisco just carry around 6 quarters all the time. I then stood and watched as trains 2 cars in length with random letters except for the one I was looking for “drove” by. The game was 30 minutes in by the time I decided to ditch this idea, only to be stopped again at the turnstyle by some transit police bitch demanding to see a ticket. Turns out that $1.50 arcade game DOES give out tickets. Explaining that I didn’t even ride the train, didn’t know, etc., she wouldn’t hear it and started saying something about a $50 citation. I went over to the Asian woman in the kiosk who was probably happy to address a question unrelated to change and got a ticket with a side of dirty look. Then I went back to the officer, shoved the ticket in her face, spiked it and ran like hell.

Unable to find a cab (again), I walked to the stadium.

It’s Friday night and I can tell the fans are pumped, giving me something to cling to and be happy about. I buy a beer and head towards my seat, showing the usher my ticket. He asks me to stand in the aisle and wait until the play is over before heading in, a request I’m happy to comply with and even happier to know it’s being made. As I stand waiting, another woman usher comes up to me and tells me I can’t stand there. I explain that I was told to, which she takes as backtalk or something. She then treats me like a child, and demonstrates where to stand. I tell her that “they should probably put a sign here, or better yet, don’t tell me to stand somewhere I can’t,” and turn my back tto her aking my seat as the ball was now dead and she was a total bitch. Later in the game I went to get a hotdog and beer and on my way back in-between innings, I noticed the original usher that checked my ticket was away talking to someone and continued toward my seat. When I got to my aisle, he had caught up with me and asked to see my ticket so I started digging in my pockets. After I found it and showed to him, the lady at the end of my aisle asked if I was going to my seat. Noticing the game had now resumed I replied, “well not anymore” and turned to leave, throwing my ticket into the air as I walked by the usher.

Fortunately, I was able to catch a cab home.