Typical Day In SF

So this day was crazy as hell, and way drunker than I thought it would be. Mr. Carl Morse and I head out to the game against the hated Dodgers. I’ve got a sign that says 11,435 miles, 30 stadiums, 1 place called home!!! We start out at Java house right behind the ballpark for PBR’s and hotdogs at 11in the morning. It’s $8 for that special. Not the greatest but its some substance and cheap beers. If you ever get there early go to Delancey Street, cheap and good food. We pound back a couple beers and I still have some vodka left over from Chicago and my flask is filled with Makers. Not a great combo but its Giants/Dodgers!!! We buy the cheapest tickets which are to damn expensive but this premium pricing makes all good games cost a shit ton. We are gonna sit in the bleachers anyway. We sit down and keep getting moved from seat to seat. For some reason the usher keeps seeing us move but doesn’t seem to care. We buy some soda to help with the shitty vodka and Makers. The damn soda is almost as expensive as the beers here. We start pounding back booze by the 2nd inning. Grabbing $8 beers and mixing it with booze is working for the buzz but not for the Smurfs (Dodger or Dodger fans) around us. I was figuring there would be a lot more but Giants fans are holding it down today. We start getting our ass kicked and Carl and I would rather walk around the stadium smoking and yelling at Smurfs. We post up in the Arcade and I hold my sign up. Every Smurf who passes us by, adult, elderly, kid or child in a stroller I roll up my sign and BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Most took it well. They know they are in our stadium and them winning wasn’t helping my case. But we get some help from people walking by and they stand with us. A couple Smurfs end up taking it well and stand next to us to boo us. But being as fucked up as we are and booing kids in strollers, them talking doesn’t really mean much now does it? The game ends we lose like 8 – 1 or something, I stopped caring after the flask was gone. We head to the bathroom and run into this big fucking dodger fan. Not like he likes them a whole lot, which I’m sure he did but this guy is probably about 6’6 400 and we start yelling at him in the bathroom. Nice friendly banter. We tell everyone in there he is buying drinks at Momo’s, he didn’t like that to much or follow through with it. LOL I run into Kyle the hostess from works bf, and he is about as drunk and happy as we are. I know a guy at Momo’s so we decide to meet there, cause we haven’t had enough to kill the pain of the sweep. I didn’t think that my bad luck watching the Giants would go against us today. I thought I had statistics and my home winning percentage on my side. But my bad luck prevails. I have now seen them lose 5 times in 4 cities. Let’s go drown our sorrows. We head over to Momo’s and I see the guy I know. Beers and shots of Fernet. Blah!!!! Fucking Fernet. The worst liquor ever. What is the fascination?? It’s never made my stomach feel better after drinking it. We stick around a little and have more shots and beer and one more shot and beers. The day has to be over right?? NO!!! My sorrows are still around. To Tres Agave it is. We meet Amanda and Kyle there. Clarissa, Carl’s fiancé arrives and pitchers of tequila and shots of margarita’s flow. Well that’s how it felt. I stopped remembering most of this place as soon as we got our first pitcher of Margarita’s I was filled in by Amanda a couple days later about, shots?, breaking glass?, some girl I was talking to, who was a bitch? And wearing a Panda hat. After the refresher course it all started to come back. Pictures didn’t hurt either. Well they did cause WOW!!! They were some ugly pictures. It’s looked like they were taken out of a bad drunken movie. These are ridiculous. Apparently after the pitcher or glass or whatever broke we left. But finished?? I think not. We jump on reliable MUNI to get closer to home. It breaks down somewhere downtown and I have the great idea to go with my thoughts on the rest of the trip…”We were supposed to get off here and go to Gitane.” Of course, why not go to a really nice restaurant dressed in Giants gear, liquored up from 10 hours of drinking. I had to ask the owner a week later if we were ok. Apparently we were, ok. Not bad but not good, he could tell it had been a long day. We at least had the presence of mind to eat a little, since all we had had all day was chips from Tres. A beer later and we get the fuck out of there and head home!!! I show up at the parents house and it’s like being in high school. I can’t talk and I need food bad. My mom cooks me up something, I truly can’t remember. Thank God for good parents. I think I hit my pillow at like 12. Crazy ass day and night. But this is mostly a typical drinking day in SF with my friends and I. Damn I missed it. I love SF more than anything. Nobody can ever tell me there is a better city than this, at least not in this country. We have it all, and most of it is good. I have my qualms with the politics and some of the people here but everyone has their dislikes in their town. But I live in the best city in the world and I beg you to try and convince me otherwise. I have one more stop, and that is to go back to Detroit to go see the game I was rained out of, on my way to Canton to go see Jerry Rice get enshrined into the Football Hall of Fame.