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bigmacbear) wrote2024-10-18 11:59 pm
bigmacbear) wrote2024-10-18 11:59 pm
Bearrison Street Fair Trip, Day 2 of 4
FRIDAY
Woke up about 6:30 to pee, went back to bed but not to sleep, and rose just before the alarm would have gone off at 7:30. About nine we went downstairs to check out the playroom on the second floor, then walked around the corner to Mel's Diner on Mission Street. Right out front of the diner, a young dude was lying in the street beside his toppled fat-tire bicycle, being tended to by the occupants of a large black SUV parked behind the bike and a small black sedan parked in the oncoming lane in front; presumably the latter vehicle had collided with the biker as it was missing its passenger side rear-view mirror. We were seated at the window, and watched as in due course a fire truck, an ambulance, and several police officers arrived to investigate the accident and take the biker in for medical treatment. I had pancakes with strawberries and banana slices; Gary had a mushroom omelet with sausage and a biscuit. By the time we finished eating, all the vehicles dealing with the collision had gone. A girl in the family group to my right had her chair slip out from under her and sat down hard on the floor, but her chief difficulty in getting up, thankfully, was that she was laughing too hard.
We left the restaurant and headed for a bus stop a block over on 3rd Street. Along the way I noticed a homeless dude asleep on the sidewalk apparently using his own foot for a pillow. We caught the 8AX bus to City Lights Bookstore. When we arrived, I heard voices overhead and looked up to see a loft space I hadn't noticed on previous visits, along with a street sign reading "Via Ferlinghetti" hung on the wall directly below. Shortly after that, a dude entered the store looking for a pen and was promptly ejected by the staff based on a prior incident. Gary found a book called The Lost Subways of North America, and I checked the table of contents and found both Rochester and Cincinnati included, so I grabbed the display copy and replaced it on its stand with the next copy in the stack. We headed upstairs to the Poetry Room and Gary selected the City Lights Pocket Poets Anthology, 60th Anniversary Edition. I sat in the Poetry Room catching up on my journal before we checked out our purchases and left.
From the bookstore we caught the 8 bus to Fisherman's Wharf, walking along the Embarcadero from Pier 35 to Pier 39 to see the sea lions. I happened to catch a dock worker trying to evict a pair of sea lions from the floating docks. One very obligingly dived into the water, while the other stood his ground until the dock worker retreated momentarily to grab a shield. Suitably armored, he was finally able to coerce the sea lion back into the water. We stopped for fruit drinks and a light lunch/snack of clam chowder and popcorn scallops at the Pier Market before plotting a course for the Tunnel Tops park.
When we reached the F streetcar stop, a fellow in a Mets cap inquired whether one could buy tickets on the streetcar; we informed him we weren't sure. We took the streetcar west along the Embarcadero to Jones and Beach; apparently Mr. Mets Cap was going the opposite direction, as were a couple of dudes of mismatched ages (daddy and boy?) who asked moments earlier whether this was the stop for the Castro. From Jones/Beach we walked around the corner to Columbus and North Point to catch the 30 for the Presidio, exiting at Mason and Tunnel Tops. Along the way we passed the Presidio Theater where one of the films on the marquee was My Old Ass. When we arrived, we found a trail leading to a beach at Crissy Field, where I found a restroom and we spent some time watching flocks of gulls alternately soaring in front of Alcatraz and dive bombing the surface of the bay in search of seafood. There were also many shirtless joggers, children playing in the tide pool, and people walking dogs. In particular, I noticed a nice-looking dude with a Westie, a brunette lady with a black Lab (which, we noticed, took a crap in the tide pool), and a petite lady with what appeared to be a short-haired Sheltie puppy that was not getting along well with the Westie.
We found a more direct walking path to Mason Street and caught the 30 bus back to the hotel. About a third of the way there, the bus went from a few available seats to crush loaded at a single stop, as a high school was just concluding classes for the week. I considered moving to share a seat with Gary, but soon realized that these seats fit one bear and one high schooler better than two bears.🐻🐻A large proportion of the students left the bus in Chinatown, where they were immediately replaced by their elders at every stop so the bus remained packed until we all left at 4th and Market. We stopped by Walgreens for more Snapple tea, then returned to the room to recharge our phones and ourselves.
Around quarter to seven we made our way to the Chieftain, an Irish pub on the corner of 5th and Howard a couple blocks from the hotel. The waitress was very pleasant and helpful, and spoke with a light Irish brogue. Several different sports contests were displayed on the various TV screens around the place. Gary said he wasn't that hungry and ordered a Caesar salad, while I had the beer battered fish and chips, with cider for both of us.
After dinner we returned to the hotel to change clothes and relax. I discovered that the Lone Star Saloon was celebrating its 35th anniversary this evening, so we decided to skip the Coach event at the Stud and head there instead. We left just after nine and headed for Market Street to catch the 9 bus. As we waited, a pack of young dudes on Solowheels and skateboards came racing down Market on both sides of the bus island; later, we saw a couple of them having a chat with the police. We left the bus at 11th and Harrison and walked the two blocks to the bar. At 10th Street, I spotted Felix from the South Seattle Bear Social going the opposite direction and said hi.
As we entered, I spotted Jaecub in his chair and introduced him to Gary. I didn't see Charlie behind the bar, so I went ahead and ordered drinks from the young bartender in the middle of the main bar. Drinks in hand, we went out on the patio and I found a seat on the central platform next to a couple of rather cute cublets. I overheard one of them talking about Seattle and chimed in that we were from there. The fellow who brought up Seattle was just leaving, but the red cublet he was talking with introduced himself as Carl and, when his other half arrived, he introduced himself as Jon. They live in San Diego; Carl is from Louisville by way of Atlanta, and Jon is from Pennsylvania and lived in several places around PA and Western New York before heading west. We spent most of the rest of the evening swapping stories. A cute cub with a thick black beard came by while Gary was at the bar; his name is Dylan and he's involved with both the Cubcake event and the Sisters based on clothes he was wearing. Another cub from Cubcake, J.J., came by selling raffle tickets and Jello shots; Jon bought an arm's length of raffle tickets and I bought a Jello shot. Toward the end of the evening we got into a conversation with a cute cub wearing a shirt with a pig logo in German (Schweine); I introduced myself and Gary and his name is Esteban. Also, Jon introduced us to Scott, a white-haired bear who wore a yellow-bordered leather harness over a T-shirt.
As it was getting to 11 PM, we decided to head back to the hotel. We walked back to 11th Street and caught the next 9 bus. It was fairly full and I had a seat up front while Gary stood by the driver. A lady with a young girl of an age to be her granddaughter sat behind a stroller bearing a hefty Chihuahua; they all left at the stop before ours. We returned to the room, where Gary surfed the net and I caught up on journaling. I prepared for bed around 12:30 and was snoozing by one.
Woke up about 6:30 to pee, went back to bed but not to sleep, and rose just before the alarm would have gone off at 7:30. About nine we went downstairs to check out the playroom on the second floor, then walked around the corner to Mel's Diner on Mission Street. Right out front of the diner, a young dude was lying in the street beside his toppled fat-tire bicycle, being tended to by the occupants of a large black SUV parked behind the bike and a small black sedan parked in the oncoming lane in front; presumably the latter vehicle had collided with the biker as it was missing its passenger side rear-view mirror. We were seated at the window, and watched as in due course a fire truck, an ambulance, and several police officers arrived to investigate the accident and take the biker in for medical treatment. I had pancakes with strawberries and banana slices; Gary had a mushroom omelet with sausage and a biscuit. By the time we finished eating, all the vehicles dealing with the collision had gone. A girl in the family group to my right had her chair slip out from under her and sat down hard on the floor, but her chief difficulty in getting up, thankfully, was that she was laughing too hard.
We left the restaurant and headed for a bus stop a block over on 3rd Street. Along the way I noticed a homeless dude asleep on the sidewalk apparently using his own foot for a pillow. We caught the 8AX bus to City Lights Bookstore. When we arrived, I heard voices overhead and looked up to see a loft space I hadn't noticed on previous visits, along with a street sign reading "Via Ferlinghetti" hung on the wall directly below. Shortly after that, a dude entered the store looking for a pen and was promptly ejected by the staff based on a prior incident. Gary found a book called The Lost Subways of North America, and I checked the table of contents and found both Rochester and Cincinnati included, so I grabbed the display copy and replaced it on its stand with the next copy in the stack. We headed upstairs to the Poetry Room and Gary selected the City Lights Pocket Poets Anthology, 60th Anniversary Edition. I sat in the Poetry Room catching up on my journal before we checked out our purchases and left.
From the bookstore we caught the 8 bus to Fisherman's Wharf, walking along the Embarcadero from Pier 35 to Pier 39 to see the sea lions. I happened to catch a dock worker trying to evict a pair of sea lions from the floating docks. One very obligingly dived into the water, while the other stood his ground until the dock worker retreated momentarily to grab a shield. Suitably armored, he was finally able to coerce the sea lion back into the water. We stopped for fruit drinks and a light lunch/snack of clam chowder and popcorn scallops at the Pier Market before plotting a course for the Tunnel Tops park.
When we reached the F streetcar stop, a fellow in a Mets cap inquired whether one could buy tickets on the streetcar; we informed him we weren't sure. We took the streetcar west along the Embarcadero to Jones and Beach; apparently Mr. Mets Cap was going the opposite direction, as were a couple of dudes of mismatched ages (daddy and boy?) who asked moments earlier whether this was the stop for the Castro. From Jones/Beach we walked around the corner to Columbus and North Point to catch the 30 for the Presidio, exiting at Mason and Tunnel Tops. Along the way we passed the Presidio Theater where one of the films on the marquee was My Old Ass. When we arrived, we found a trail leading to a beach at Crissy Field, where I found a restroom and we spent some time watching flocks of gulls alternately soaring in front of Alcatraz and dive bombing the surface of the bay in search of seafood. There were also many shirtless joggers, children playing in the tide pool, and people walking dogs. In particular, I noticed a nice-looking dude with a Westie, a brunette lady with a black Lab (which, we noticed, took a crap in the tide pool), and a petite lady with what appeared to be a short-haired Sheltie puppy that was not getting along well with the Westie.
We found a more direct walking path to Mason Street and caught the 30 bus back to the hotel. About a third of the way there, the bus went from a few available seats to crush loaded at a single stop, as a high school was just concluding classes for the week. I considered moving to share a seat with Gary, but soon realized that these seats fit one bear and one high schooler better than two bears.🐻🐻A large proportion of the students left the bus in Chinatown, where they were immediately replaced by their elders at every stop so the bus remained packed until we all left at 4th and Market. We stopped by Walgreens for more Snapple tea, then returned to the room to recharge our phones and ourselves.
Around quarter to seven we made our way to the Chieftain, an Irish pub on the corner of 5th and Howard a couple blocks from the hotel. The waitress was very pleasant and helpful, and spoke with a light Irish brogue. Several different sports contests were displayed on the various TV screens around the place. Gary said he wasn't that hungry and ordered a Caesar salad, while I had the beer battered fish and chips, with cider for both of us.
After dinner we returned to the hotel to change clothes and relax. I discovered that the Lone Star Saloon was celebrating its 35th anniversary this evening, so we decided to skip the Coach event at the Stud and head there instead. We left just after nine and headed for Market Street to catch the 9 bus. As we waited, a pack of young dudes on Solowheels and skateboards came racing down Market on both sides of the bus island; later, we saw a couple of them having a chat with the police. We left the bus at 11th and Harrison and walked the two blocks to the bar. At 10th Street, I spotted Felix from the South Seattle Bear Social going the opposite direction and said hi.
As we entered, I spotted Jaecub in his chair and introduced him to Gary. I didn't see Charlie behind the bar, so I went ahead and ordered drinks from the young bartender in the middle of the main bar. Drinks in hand, we went out on the patio and I found a seat on the central platform next to a couple of rather cute cublets. I overheard one of them talking about Seattle and chimed in that we were from there. The fellow who brought up Seattle was just leaving, but the red cublet he was talking with introduced himself as Carl and, when his other half arrived, he introduced himself as Jon. They live in San Diego; Carl is from Louisville by way of Atlanta, and Jon is from Pennsylvania and lived in several places around PA and Western New York before heading west. We spent most of the rest of the evening swapping stories. A cute cub with a thick black beard came by while Gary was at the bar; his name is Dylan and he's involved with both the Cubcake event and the Sisters based on clothes he was wearing. Another cub from Cubcake, J.J., came by selling raffle tickets and Jello shots; Jon bought an arm's length of raffle tickets and I bought a Jello shot. Toward the end of the evening we got into a conversation with a cute cub wearing a shirt with a pig logo in German (Schweine); I introduced myself and Gary and his name is Esteban. Also, Jon introduced us to Scott, a white-haired bear who wore a yellow-bordered leather harness over a T-shirt.
As it was getting to 11 PM, we decided to head back to the hotel. We walked back to 11th Street and caught the next 9 bus. It was fairly full and I had a seat up front while Gary stood by the driver. A lady with a young girl of an age to be her granddaughter sat behind a stroller bearing a hefty Chihuahua; they all left at the stop before ours. We returned to the room, where Gary surfed the net and I caught up on journaling. I prepared for bed around 12:30 and was snoozing by one.