![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Labor Day Weekend by the Bay, Day 2
Sep. 2nd, 2023 11:59 pmSATURDAY
I woke up almost exactly as my alarm was supposed to go off at 6:30 am, so I quickly canceled it and got up to use the bathroom, shower, and otherwise prepare for the day. When I was done, Gary rose to do the same.
We left for breakfast about eight, stopping by Zevi Cafe and Bistro next door. There was a police car with its lights going in front of the old US Mint across the street. We went in and waited in line behind three beefy, bearded dudes who looked Mediterranean (which made sense because the menu was very Greek in cuisine). Our cashier was also nice-looking, if less burly and shorter in stature. Gary ordered French toast with strawberry kiwi Snapple, and I ordered the Zevi breakfast burrito with gyros meat, eggs, avocado, and potatoes, which came with a bowl of fruit, and a latte. Two nice-looking dudes came to sit on the bench either side of Gary, and the fellow on his right asked him if we were there for the Google convention. Informed we weren't, he asked where we were from and told us he'd come from New York.
After breakfast we walked up Powell Street to get pictures of the cable cars, and happened to land at Union Square at Geary and Powell. We took seats in a pair of low plastic Adirondack chairs next to the cornhole court, where a security guard wearing a black turban was throwing the beanbags. It was just after nine, so I tuned in the soc-motss Zoom call and we chatted for about ten minutes.
About 9:30 we returned to the room to use the bathroom, then returned to the BART station about ten. Gary got some good video of the arriving trains before our Green Line train to San Jose arrived. The seat in front of me had evidence beneath it of someone's adventure in shoplifting, consisting of two separate layers of security packaging that used to contain two small, high-value items. I got some good pictures of Oakland Coliseum as we approached that station and stopped there. When we arrived at Berryessa Station, the rapid bus to Diridon Station had just left, so we waited for the next one. There was a monster truck pull at the SAP Center so traffic entering the station was nuts.
We took the short walk toward True Brew where we were scheduled to meet KJ for lunch, but he passed the place and met us a few doors down to inform us it was closed. KJ recommended a pizza place he knew from soccer fandom, called J-Town Pizza, about a mile away. He called for a Lyft and we bundled into a relatively small car for the short drive. We split a large Godzilla pizza (basically a meat lover's recipe), I had a pineapple cider, KJ had a local IPA, and Gary had diet cola. Over lunch we traded stories of our recent and not-so-recent travels, including his soccer trip to Australia. At the end of the meal we walked together to the bus stop for KJ to return to his hotel, and we parted company and continued a block to our stop for Berryessa, which was one stop away via the same rapid bus. When we arrived at Berryessa, I took the opportunity to get pictures of the huge flea market and beer garden behind the station before our train arrived. I spent much of the return trip completing my journal of the day so far.
When we arrived at Powell Street Station, we headed to the north end of the station to find a store where we could pick up beverages and snacks. I spotted a Trader Joe's on 4th Street and, after some discussion, we picked up lemonade, iced tea, yogurt smoothies, and a small tray of fresh raspberries. Of course, there were a lot of snacks in barrels strategically placed along the maze leading to the cash registers, which so occupied the attention of the two young ladies in front of us that they occasionally had to rush to fill the gap in the queue before them. From these, Gary added some cookies to our basket, which I didn't mind at all. We checked out and took our purchases back to the room. There we kicked back for a few hours, ate the raspberries and the cookies, and watched baseball.
Around 6:30 we left for dinner at Johnny Foley's Irish House on O'Farrell Street a few blocks from the hotel, which I'd spotted on the way back from Union Square this morning. We were seated in the back of the bar, in a room next to the kitchen decorated with massive portraits. A cute cub with a ball cap on backwards sat at the table beside us with a lady. I ordered the Irish lamb stew with a local cider, and Gary ordered the wild mushroom ravioli with a diet cola. The stew was very flavorful, although a couple of the lamb chunks were a bit chewy and I was concerned about choking.
After dinner, I plotted a course to the Lone Star Saloon on Google Maps, and the shortest route had us walking west on O'Farrell to Jones Street to pick up the 27 bus (which is the same bus we used to catch from Civic Center Station). This placed us squarely in the Tenderloin, which is considered a non-tourist-friendly neighborhood. We managed, though, partly by relying on situational awareness (which comes naturally to Gary and has rubbed off on me) and partly because I didn't realize that was the Tenderloin until the bus was almost there. Thus I was more amused than offended by people's antics, like the entitled folks who parked in the bus zone, the dude who walked unsteadily in the street instead of taking the sidewalk, and the other dude speeding up the sidewalk on a scooter the wrong way, not to mention the handful of dudes walking curious, muscular dogs, mostly pitbulls. Gary spotted a banner advertising the neighborhood as the "Transgender District", and I did notice a curious couple waiting down the street, who presented as a dude in a pink suit and a lady in a big pale green dress. We also caught a few snippets of conversation from people passing by, like the dude (in the party of four which included a lady who strongly resembles my cousin Corinne) who, told the city was so beautiful, replied, "Everything is beautiful when you're drunk." This prompted Gary to chime in with a chorus of "Everything Is Beautiful" by Ray Stevens. Eventually the bus arrived and we took seats on the back bench. It was a short trip, and I noticed the encampment on 8th Street south of Market appeared to be gone.
When we arrived at the Lone Star, it was fairly slow and our favorite bartender, Charlie, wasn't on duty yet. Gary ordered a cola and I ordered a dry cider, and we went back and sat on the patio. There was a trio of bears around the corner from us: two younger guys with blocky haircuts and a balding dude with (as Gary later overheard) a thick Scottish accent, impressive ink on both arms and shoulders, and some issues with his back which one of the cubs was managing adeptly with massage. At that point the other cub joked he was a "massage-onist" (obviously a pun on "misogynist"). This led to an awkward moment as I was trying to work up the nerve to introduce myself and Gary to the trio while Gary was not interested in meeting new people and instead was sharing some information about MLS teams. Fortunately, we came to an understanding, and when I went to the bar for another drink, I noticed Charlie was behind the bar and said hi before ordering another cider. Mission accomplished, I suggested we sit at the bar so we could catch up with Charlie between customers. When we arrived, Charlie refilled Gary's Coke and I ordered one more cider. I mentioned Julian and Greg, and Charlie shared that he was going to Tasmania in the near future and staying with a friend. After finishing my cider (Gary had long since finished his Coke), I went to hit the urinal trough and saw the ad for Bearrison Street Fair. As we bid Charlie farewell, I mentioned I'd be in Dallas that weekend and he mentioned he hadn't been to Folsom Street Fair either.
Once we got outside, I asked Gary to take my picture with the wooden bear out front, and then we walked the block and a half to the bus stop in front of the DNA Lounge on 11th. There was a trio of two girls and a dude who almost ran into us on the sidewalk, as well as two cute cubs (unfortunately there to pick up girls or spoil for a fight, or both). The security dude was amusing as he asked folks in line to have their IDs out and available. The bus arrived quickly, and we were soon walking back to the hotel and watching a small crowd outside the Mint on their way out of a social function in the space. We returned to the room and settled in for the night, catching the late news and dropping off to sleep about midnight.
I woke up almost exactly as my alarm was supposed to go off at 6:30 am, so I quickly canceled it and got up to use the bathroom, shower, and otherwise prepare for the day. When I was done, Gary rose to do the same.
We left for breakfast about eight, stopping by Zevi Cafe and Bistro next door. There was a police car with its lights going in front of the old US Mint across the street. We went in and waited in line behind three beefy, bearded dudes who looked Mediterranean (which made sense because the menu was very Greek in cuisine). Our cashier was also nice-looking, if less burly and shorter in stature. Gary ordered French toast with strawberry kiwi Snapple, and I ordered the Zevi breakfast burrito with gyros meat, eggs, avocado, and potatoes, which came with a bowl of fruit, and a latte. Two nice-looking dudes came to sit on the bench either side of Gary, and the fellow on his right asked him if we were there for the Google convention. Informed we weren't, he asked where we were from and told us he'd come from New York.
After breakfast we walked up Powell Street to get pictures of the cable cars, and happened to land at Union Square at Geary and Powell. We took seats in a pair of low plastic Adirondack chairs next to the cornhole court, where a security guard wearing a black turban was throwing the beanbags. It was just after nine, so I tuned in the soc-motss Zoom call and we chatted for about ten minutes.
About 9:30 we returned to the room to use the bathroom, then returned to the BART station about ten. Gary got some good video of the arriving trains before our Green Line train to San Jose arrived. The seat in front of me had evidence beneath it of someone's adventure in shoplifting, consisting of two separate layers of security packaging that used to contain two small, high-value items. I got some good pictures of Oakland Coliseum as we approached that station and stopped there. When we arrived at Berryessa Station, the rapid bus to Diridon Station had just left, so we waited for the next one. There was a monster truck pull at the SAP Center so traffic entering the station was nuts.
We took the short walk toward True Brew where we were scheduled to meet KJ for lunch, but he passed the place and met us a few doors down to inform us it was closed. KJ recommended a pizza place he knew from soccer fandom, called J-Town Pizza, about a mile away. He called for a Lyft and we bundled into a relatively small car for the short drive. We split a large Godzilla pizza (basically a meat lover's recipe), I had a pineapple cider, KJ had a local IPA, and Gary had diet cola. Over lunch we traded stories of our recent and not-so-recent travels, including his soccer trip to Australia. At the end of the meal we walked together to the bus stop for KJ to return to his hotel, and we parted company and continued a block to our stop for Berryessa, which was one stop away via the same rapid bus. When we arrived at Berryessa, I took the opportunity to get pictures of the huge flea market and beer garden behind the station before our train arrived. I spent much of the return trip completing my journal of the day so far.
When we arrived at Powell Street Station, we headed to the north end of the station to find a store where we could pick up beverages and snacks. I spotted a Trader Joe's on 4th Street and, after some discussion, we picked up lemonade, iced tea, yogurt smoothies, and a small tray of fresh raspberries. Of course, there were a lot of snacks in barrels strategically placed along the maze leading to the cash registers, which so occupied the attention of the two young ladies in front of us that they occasionally had to rush to fill the gap in the queue before them. From these, Gary added some cookies to our basket, which I didn't mind at all. We checked out and took our purchases back to the room. There we kicked back for a few hours, ate the raspberries and the cookies, and watched baseball.
Around 6:30 we left for dinner at Johnny Foley's Irish House on O'Farrell Street a few blocks from the hotel, which I'd spotted on the way back from Union Square this morning. We were seated in the back of the bar, in a room next to the kitchen decorated with massive portraits. A cute cub with a ball cap on backwards sat at the table beside us with a lady. I ordered the Irish lamb stew with a local cider, and Gary ordered the wild mushroom ravioli with a diet cola. The stew was very flavorful, although a couple of the lamb chunks were a bit chewy and I was concerned about choking.
After dinner, I plotted a course to the Lone Star Saloon on Google Maps, and the shortest route had us walking west on O'Farrell to Jones Street to pick up the 27 bus (which is the same bus we used to catch from Civic Center Station). This placed us squarely in the Tenderloin, which is considered a non-tourist-friendly neighborhood. We managed, though, partly by relying on situational awareness (which comes naturally to Gary and has rubbed off on me) and partly because I didn't realize that was the Tenderloin until the bus was almost there. Thus I was more amused than offended by people's antics, like the entitled folks who parked in the bus zone, the dude who walked unsteadily in the street instead of taking the sidewalk, and the other dude speeding up the sidewalk on a scooter the wrong way, not to mention the handful of dudes walking curious, muscular dogs, mostly pitbulls. Gary spotted a banner advertising the neighborhood as the "Transgender District", and I did notice a curious couple waiting down the street, who presented as a dude in a pink suit and a lady in a big pale green dress. We also caught a few snippets of conversation from people passing by, like the dude (in the party of four which included a lady who strongly resembles my cousin Corinne) who, told the city was so beautiful, replied, "Everything is beautiful when you're drunk." This prompted Gary to chime in with a chorus of "Everything Is Beautiful" by Ray Stevens. Eventually the bus arrived and we took seats on the back bench. It was a short trip, and I noticed the encampment on 8th Street south of Market appeared to be gone.
When we arrived at the Lone Star, it was fairly slow and our favorite bartender, Charlie, wasn't on duty yet. Gary ordered a cola and I ordered a dry cider, and we went back and sat on the patio. There was a trio of bears around the corner from us: two younger guys with blocky haircuts and a balding dude with (as Gary later overheard) a thick Scottish accent, impressive ink on both arms and shoulders, and some issues with his back which one of the cubs was managing adeptly with massage. At that point the other cub joked he was a "massage-onist" (obviously a pun on "misogynist"). This led to an awkward moment as I was trying to work up the nerve to introduce myself and Gary to the trio while Gary was not interested in meeting new people and instead was sharing some information about MLS teams. Fortunately, we came to an understanding, and when I went to the bar for another drink, I noticed Charlie was behind the bar and said hi before ordering another cider. Mission accomplished, I suggested we sit at the bar so we could catch up with Charlie between customers. When we arrived, Charlie refilled Gary's Coke and I ordered one more cider. I mentioned Julian and Greg, and Charlie shared that he was going to Tasmania in the near future and staying with a friend. After finishing my cider (Gary had long since finished his Coke), I went to hit the urinal trough and saw the ad for Bearrison Street Fair. As we bid Charlie farewell, I mentioned I'd be in Dallas that weekend and he mentioned he hadn't been to Folsom Street Fair either.
Once we got outside, I asked Gary to take my picture with the wooden bear out front, and then we walked the block and a half to the bus stop in front of the DNA Lounge on 11th. There was a trio of two girls and a dude who almost ran into us on the sidewalk, as well as two cute cubs (unfortunately there to pick up girls or spoil for a fight, or both). The security dude was amusing as he asked folks in line to have their IDs out and available. The bus arrived quickly, and we were soon walking back to the hotel and watching a small crowd outside the Mint on their way out of a social function in the space. We returned to the room and settled in for the night, catching the late news and dropping off to sleep about midnight.