Last Saturday/Sunday - Conclusion
It looks like my plan to keep you all in suspense worked--for maybe two or three people, anyway. Good enough! Before writing that last entry, I debated whether I should tell the rest of this, because it might have been stupid and dangerous--but is so typically me that I ought to write it here.
When we last left myself, I was headed to the train from a show in the Mission District. I gave myself about half an hour since that was how long it took to walk to where I was. I was halfway between two stations: one at the end of the line, and one further south. The one further south had a later departure time of course, so I decided to head that way. I'd only seen the station from the train, but I did notice key features about the stop as I passed through on the way up, such as the fact that it was below street level (most of the other stops aren't). I walked, then jogged, in the general direction of the stop. It was on a numbered street so I knew I should be able to find it easy enough. I went south until I got to 22nd, then headed east. What I didn't plan on were the hills! I had to run up and down two hills to get to the area where the stop was, and that was a workout I hadn't planned on. I was wearing jeans, but it could've been worse since at least I had a t-shirt and running shoes on. So I get a couple of blocks from the bay and I'm thinking that I should've gotten to the stop by then. I only have a minute or two to spare so I start yelling at people across the street if they can tell me where the train is. Everyone tells me where the street car is, which I'd already seen, but no one knows where Caltrain is. I'm not sure I asked for it specifically by name, so it might have been my fault. On the other hand, people that live in San Francisco and that are out at midnight probably have never needed to know where Caltrain is, so I still can't blame them. After a few more minutes, I know for sure that I've missed the last train, and I'm screwed. I don't think about that for long, because the people I've been asking have just left a bar across the street, Retox Lounge, where another band is playing!
I liked this place, too. It took me until getting into the basement, but at that point I realized that they are airplane themed. The seats against one wall downstairs are airplane seats, against the other wall is the fuselage of a plane, and they have lights set up that blink in a row through the windows from behind as if the plane is headed down the runway. Upstairs, the restroom is completely metal which may not be like airplanes today but was just like the submarines I served on.
I got in all sweaty and had some water before having a beer. Some homeless looking guy with a dog was telling me how he found this dog that day tied to a pole all day and finally decided to rescue it. After a bit I realized there was a band playing downstairs so I went down to check them out. The downstairs was a real basement. I mean, the band had to load in and out up the same narrow staircase I went down. Downstairs the ceiling was low, no windows or obvious other exits. I wonder if this is up to firecode? Maybe I shouldn't write this, I might get them busted! I enjoyed the band, they had some synth as well as the normal stuff. The only thing I didn't like was that they used a drum machine, probably because I was used to seeing real drummers all night. The last couple of songs they had a chick playing along on real drums (set up the whole time) to the drum machine, so I wonder why they needed the drum machine at all.
After the show I went upstairs where the homeless guy was telling a girl the same story. She was gutsy enough to call him out on something I hadn't earlier. He kept saying how he would take a nap, wake up, and see the dog still tied to the pole. But his naps ended at 2 pm and 6 pm. So I was thinking (as she was): did you sleep all day? She actually asked him that, but I don't remember his answer. Sorry!
I feel somewhat proud that I wasn't fretting at all about my transporation situation. Is that a bad thing? I guess I think getting myself into a situation like this is going to get me killed someday. I left the bar, where I realized I ended up on 20th St due to non-continuous east-west roads instead of 22nd. I made my way down to the station and debated waiting there until the next train, sometime after 8 am. I soon realized being somewhere like this alone was probably not the best idea, and I headed back to the Mission District in search of a hotel to spend the night. I just noticed today that while I was wandering somewhere near Cesar Chavez that I was only a block or two away from the home of the Mythbusters, cool!
The only non-seedy hotel I found during my walk didn't have any rooms, so I kept walking. So, I kept walking. Good exercise anyway, right? Before I knew it I was downtown, and all the hotels I passed looked to fancy/expensive or probably unwilling to take some idiot off the street. At least I felt safer, because the area was well lighted and there were people about--even non-homeless looking types. By 5 am I was at the Embarcadero, whatever that is. It was close to Caltrain anyway. I walked around in circles for a bit, had a McSkillet Burrito at McD's when they opened, and waited for the train which left at 8 am. The last half an hour waiting was brutal. I was so out of it. But I got on the train, got off at my stop at 9:30, and was in bed at my hotel at 10:00. I slept all day, so I missed a good day of unseasonal warmth and sunshine, but the sleep and stupid story is worth it I suppose. I did laundry and had a kebob Sunday night, but that's about it.
A normal person would've called a cab after missing their train, and took it to a non-vacant hotel. But I guess I'm too fiercly independent to rely on anything like that. Anyway, I'm alive, and got to see all of downtown San Francisco for nothing, so I have nothing to complain about. I just mapped out my total route, and I walk/ran more than a half marathon that day, not too bad!
When we last left myself, I was headed to the train from a show in the Mission District. I gave myself about half an hour since that was how long it took to walk to where I was. I was halfway between two stations: one at the end of the line, and one further south. The one further south had a later departure time of course, so I decided to head that way. I'd only seen the station from the train, but I did notice key features about the stop as I passed through on the way up, such as the fact that it was below street level (most of the other stops aren't). I walked, then jogged, in the general direction of the stop. It was on a numbered street so I knew I should be able to find it easy enough. I went south until I got to 22nd, then headed east. What I didn't plan on were the hills! I had to run up and down two hills to get to the area where the stop was, and that was a workout I hadn't planned on. I was wearing jeans, but it could've been worse since at least I had a t-shirt and running shoes on. So I get a couple of blocks from the bay and I'm thinking that I should've gotten to the stop by then. I only have a minute or two to spare so I start yelling at people across the street if they can tell me where the train is. Everyone tells me where the street car is, which I'd already seen, but no one knows where Caltrain is. I'm not sure I asked for it specifically by name, so it might have been my fault. On the other hand, people that live in San Francisco and that are out at midnight probably have never needed to know where Caltrain is, so I still can't blame them. After a few more minutes, I know for sure that I've missed the last train, and I'm screwed. I don't think about that for long, because the people I've been asking have just left a bar across the street, Retox Lounge, where another band is playing!
I liked this place, too. It took me until getting into the basement, but at that point I realized that they are airplane themed. The seats against one wall downstairs are airplane seats, against the other wall is the fuselage of a plane, and they have lights set up that blink in a row through the windows from behind as if the plane is headed down the runway. Upstairs, the restroom is completely metal which may not be like airplanes today but was just like the submarines I served on.
I got in all sweaty and had some water before having a beer. Some homeless looking guy with a dog was telling me how he found this dog that day tied to a pole all day and finally decided to rescue it. After a bit I realized there was a band playing downstairs so I went down to check them out. The downstairs was a real basement. I mean, the band had to load in and out up the same narrow staircase I went down. Downstairs the ceiling was low, no windows or obvious other exits. I wonder if this is up to firecode? Maybe I shouldn't write this, I might get them busted! I enjoyed the band, they had some synth as well as the normal stuff. The only thing I didn't like was that they used a drum machine, probably because I was used to seeing real drummers all night. The last couple of songs they had a chick playing along on real drums (set up the whole time) to the drum machine, so I wonder why they needed the drum machine at all.
After the show I went upstairs where the homeless guy was telling a girl the same story. She was gutsy enough to call him out on something I hadn't earlier. He kept saying how he would take a nap, wake up, and see the dog still tied to the pole. But his naps ended at 2 pm and 6 pm. So I was thinking (as she was): did you sleep all day? She actually asked him that, but I don't remember his answer. Sorry!
I feel somewhat proud that I wasn't fretting at all about my transporation situation. Is that a bad thing? I guess I think getting myself into a situation like this is going to get me killed someday. I left the bar, where I realized I ended up on 20th St due to non-continuous east-west roads instead of 22nd. I made my way down to the station and debated waiting there until the next train, sometime after 8 am. I soon realized being somewhere like this alone was probably not the best idea, and I headed back to the Mission District in search of a hotel to spend the night. I just noticed today that while I was wandering somewhere near Cesar Chavez that I was only a block or two away from the home of the Mythbusters, cool!
The only non-seedy hotel I found during my walk didn't have any rooms, so I kept walking. So, I kept walking. Good exercise anyway, right? Before I knew it I was downtown, and all the hotels I passed looked to fancy/expensive or probably unwilling to take some idiot off the street. At least I felt safer, because the area was well lighted and there were people about--even non-homeless looking types. By 5 am I was at the Embarcadero, whatever that is. It was close to Caltrain anyway. I walked around in circles for a bit, had a McSkillet Burrito at McD's when they opened, and waited for the train which left at 8 am. The last half an hour waiting was brutal. I was so out of it. But I got on the train, got off at my stop at 9:30, and was in bed at my hotel at 10:00. I slept all day, so I missed a good day of unseasonal warmth and sunshine, but the sleep and stupid story is worth it I suppose. I did laundry and had a kebob Sunday night, but that's about it.
A normal person would've called a cab after missing their train, and took it to a non-vacant hotel. But I guess I'm too fiercly independent to rely on anything like that. Anyway, I'm alive, and got to see all of downtown San Francisco for nothing, so I have nothing to complain about. I just mapped out my total route, and I walk/ran more than a half marathon that day, not too bad!
Labels: music
posted by PlaysByEar at 12:27 AM
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