JESUS CRANBERRY GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!
So I made myself take some time tonight and head west for San Francisco. It was a tight schedule because the championship game of the tournament started late and then I had to interview the head coach I spoke about in my previous blog and get results from the rest of the days games. I didn't leave my hotel until around 7 or so and got on the BART train around 7:30. An hour later I got off on 16 Street Mission. (one stop in San Fran is the same as another right? WRONG!) I knew I was in trouble when I got to the street and I felt like I was in some of the worst parts of D.C. back home. All I saw were homeless people and run down buildings. The map told me I was somewhere near the Golden Gate Bridge which was my only goal seeing as I had limited time. I would have hailed a cab, but the ones I saw didn't stop. And the infamous trolley cars that I've heard so much about apparently don't run in this part of town. So I put on my game face and walked....five blocks in the wrong direction. My famous NYC sense of direction at work again. I turned around and I had to call that coach and I had to find someplace quiet to do it. I had seen a Burger King when I got to the surface so I went in there since I was hungry and I thought, 1: I'd be safe and 2: It would be relatively quiet since it was so late. It was quiet and I guess I was safe because I'm alive, but as I sat in there there were five homeless people and one of them tried to provoke one of the employees into fighting him because the customer forgot to order his burgers witout pickles or onions and they had already made them. "I'm allergic. I'll die if I eat them." Just a thought, but if eating something would kill you don't you think you'd remember when you ordered it?
So after that I sat and conducted my interview, now one I won't forget because of two reasons, and ate my burgers. As I sat there I figured I'd brave the "big city" and try and find my way to the bridge. I'd hail a cab and get out of dodge. Well, as I finished my last burger I heard a commotion outside. Now this could have been a drug deal gone sour, but my best guess is that with the woman involved and the way the guy was talking to this "customer" it may have been more of maybe a little "sucky sucky five dolla'" action going on. This is the conversation that spilled into BK as I sat there...
Girl: "This mother fucker owes me my goddamn money."
We'll call this guy "The Pimp": Bitch, shut the fuck up and let me handle my goddamn buisness."
The Pimp to the guy we shall now refer to as the man in the red hat who is about the get a shank in the ribs or D.O.A.: "Listen here mother fucker. You got what you wanted now you're going to give me my god damn money one way or the other."
D.O.A.: mutters something incoherent as he backs into the BK and falls over a table.
The Pimp: Mother fucker sit down. Now get the fuck over here and I'm going to get my money.
--exit stage left.
Now this is my internal monolouge. "I'm the only white person here and I'm going to get caught in a damn gunfight becasue some dude wouldn't give some chick five bucks for a blow job. This soda is good, but I like my life. It was nice seeing you San Fran."
Now as I tried to exit another homeless guy asked me if I was going to finish my soda, to which I said no and gave it to him. Then he asked me if I could buy him food and I said no because that was near where the PIMP and his murder case went and I wanted no part of that deal. I put on my best, "I may be white, but I could scream like a little girl if you look at me wrong" face and left BK behind. When I got outside there was some woman on a bullhorn on the corner yelling about being oppressed or something. I took the stairs down to the BART and held on for dear life.
One thing I forgot is that as I was sitting there eating there was this little white homeless woman who was spinning near the door. It was strange enough and then I realized her spinning was bringing her closer to the trash can and she kept looking around. When she reached that trash can she stuck her arm in up to her shoulder and started rooting around for what I would assume was food. She came up empty and looked pissed about it. It would have been funny had it not been so sad.
Needless to say that I did not enjoy my brief visit to San Francisco, but I won't judge it too harshly. If you get off on the wrong stop in D.C. you may not make it home alive and I never really felt like my life was in danger here, just my virginity and my money and my phone and my MP3 player. Next time I come here I'll do this visit during the day so I can see and it feels safer and maybe I'll even ask the BART guy what stop to get off on. That may have been wise in the first place, but then what kind of story would I have to tell?
My flight leaves Oakland in about 6 hours and I have to be there in about 4 and a half. That means I need to leave here around 3 or 3:30 a.m. which means I need to get up around 2 or 2:30. It's midnight here and I still need to gather up all my stuff and get packed and shower. I see some sleep on the plane in my future. I'm out.
So I made myself take some time tonight and head west for San Francisco. It was a tight schedule because the championship game of the tournament started late and then I had to interview the head coach I spoke about in my previous blog and get results from the rest of the days games. I didn't leave my hotel until around 7 or so and got on the BART train around 7:30. An hour later I got off on 16 Street Mission. (one stop in San Fran is the same as another right? WRONG!) I knew I was in trouble when I got to the street and I felt like I was in some of the worst parts of D.C. back home. All I saw were homeless people and run down buildings. The map told me I was somewhere near the Golden Gate Bridge which was my only goal seeing as I had limited time. I would have hailed a cab, but the ones I saw didn't stop. And the infamous trolley cars that I've heard so much about apparently don't run in this part of town. So I put on my game face and walked....five blocks in the wrong direction. My famous NYC sense of direction at work again. I turned around and I had to call that coach and I had to find someplace quiet to do it. I had seen a Burger King when I got to the surface so I went in there since I was hungry and I thought, 1: I'd be safe and 2: It would be relatively quiet since it was so late. It was quiet and I guess I was safe because I'm alive, but as I sat in there there were five homeless people and one of them tried to provoke one of the employees into fighting him because the customer forgot to order his burgers witout pickles or onions and they had already made them. "I'm allergic. I'll die if I eat them." Just a thought, but if eating something would kill you don't you think you'd remember when you ordered it?
So after that I sat and conducted my interview, now one I won't forget because of two reasons, and ate my burgers. As I sat there I figured I'd brave the "big city" and try and find my way to the bridge. I'd hail a cab and get out of dodge. Well, as I finished my last burger I heard a commotion outside. Now this could have been a drug deal gone sour, but my best guess is that with the woman involved and the way the guy was talking to this "customer" it may have been more of maybe a little "sucky sucky five dolla'" action going on. This is the conversation that spilled into BK as I sat there...
Girl: "This mother fucker owes me my goddamn money."
We'll call this guy "The Pimp": Bitch, shut the fuck up and let me handle my goddamn buisness."
The Pimp to the guy we shall now refer to as the man in the red hat who is about the get a shank in the ribs or D.O.A.: "Listen here mother fucker. You got what you wanted now you're going to give me my god damn money one way or the other."
D.O.A.: mutters something incoherent as he backs into the BK and falls over a table.
The Pimp: Mother fucker sit down. Now get the fuck over here and I'm going to get my money.
--exit stage left.
Now this is my internal monolouge. "I'm the only white person here and I'm going to get caught in a damn gunfight becasue some dude wouldn't give some chick five bucks for a blow job. This soda is good, but I like my life. It was nice seeing you San Fran."
Now as I tried to exit another homeless guy asked me if I was going to finish my soda, to which I said no and gave it to him. Then he asked me if I could buy him food and I said no because that was near where the PIMP and his murder case went and I wanted no part of that deal. I put on my best, "I may be white, but I could scream like a little girl if you look at me wrong" face and left BK behind. When I got outside there was some woman on a bullhorn on the corner yelling about being oppressed or something. I took the stairs down to the BART and held on for dear life.
One thing I forgot is that as I was sitting there eating there was this little white homeless woman who was spinning near the door. It was strange enough and then I realized her spinning was bringing her closer to the trash can and she kept looking around. When she reached that trash can she stuck her arm in up to her shoulder and started rooting around for what I would assume was food. She came up empty and looked pissed about it. It would have been funny had it not been so sad.
Needless to say that I did not enjoy my brief visit to San Francisco, but I won't judge it too harshly. If you get off on the wrong stop in D.C. you may not make it home alive and I never really felt like my life was in danger here, just my virginity and my money and my phone and my MP3 player. Next time I come here I'll do this visit during the day so I can see and it feels safer and maybe I'll even ask the BART guy what stop to get off on. That may have been wise in the first place, but then what kind of story would I have to tell?
My flight leaves Oakland in about 6 hours and I have to be there in about 4 and a half. That means I need to leave here around 3 or 3:30 a.m. which means I need to get up around 2 or 2:30. It's midnight here and I still need to gather up all my stuff and get packed and shower. I see some sleep on the plane in my future. I'm out.