So I asked Ol' Pinehut Jones on Thursday what time he wanted to come in as I was following him to Concord in the rental PT Cruiser (which, for ease of use I will now call PTC which strangely enough doesn't stand for PT Cruiser.. it stands for Playa's Too Cool; but I'm not really sure why.)
"What about 7?"
At first I was bitching about that since I needed to pack and check out before we left since I would be checking into SF the next day, but then I woke up at 5:30 anyway. The night prior I was going to start packing and whatnot (because I was still trying to fool myself that I was a responsible person), but then I realized I had a 3/4th full bottle of vodka in the room and I didn't really feel like packing it. Waste not, want not; thought I, and there did I lay upon it until the bottle was right finish'd. Needless to say that was the extent of my "packing" that night.
So I wake up at 5:30 which is not something one should do given the hotel and the vodka, but hey, I was ready for anything right? So I shower, throw all my stuffs in a bag and bolt out the door. I essentially end up laying in the PTC till Pinehut Jones comes by like an hour later.
SORT OF FUNNY STORY ABOUT PINEHUT JONES THAT UC AND R343L ALREADY HEARD AND I PROBABLY SHOULDN'T TYPE IT UP, BUT DAMMIT IT MAKES *ME* LAUGH AND THAT IS WHAT IS IMPORTANT YES:
Pinehut is an odd cat. Kind of socially awkward and sort of humorless.
One day, I took Ol' Pinehut out to lunch and as we were driving I was attempting to find street parking. In the process of looking he says, "You know there's a parking garage over there."
To which I respond: "I hate parking garages, boo to that."
"Oh... is this some sort of ideology or something?"
"No, a parking garage killed my father."
He then pauses and says, "I'm sorry" in a completely serious tone which strikes me as both funny and confounding all at once so I sort of snort laugh... snaugh? Is that even a word?
"I was kidding. What? Did you think that a parking garage actually hunted down my father and jumped him?"
"no.. I thought maybe there was an earthquake while he was in one maybe."
"Uh.. no.. no.. he's alive."
END OF POINTLESS STORY
It was Thursday when I realized the PTC had built-in satellite radio; this made me very very happy. I found the reggae station and they were playing something fast and bouncy that I actually knew. I turned the stereo up until the seat was shaking with bass and zoomed through mountains like a madman singing the chorus at the top of my lungs and pounding at the steering column in time with the beat. It was basically pretty good.
Mountains make me have strange thoughts, I kept wishing I believed in reincarnation so that I could hide notes to myself all the time and then eventually (given enough lives) I would be able to live through one properly. I could make it all better. Sadly this is not to be and so I just stared at the hills (endlessly?)
Then I got to Concord which is kind of an odd little burg hidden in a bowl beneath Mount Diablo. (Which, by the way, is not aptly named as decided by UC and I. It should have lots of crags and a line of people constantly falling off... oh and a self-contained constant lava flow. Instead it's just kind of a big hill really.)
I spent longer there than I had expected (mostly because the scripting was all mucked up for a bunch of the installs so... blah blah blah) Also, I cut up my wrist moving a bunch of servers around, so now I look like an Emo kid. I finally bolted at about 4.
Every fucking street in this state makes me want to play Vice City: San Andreas again. Even the drive between the towns feels like the drive between the towns in the game. Hell, walking down SF streets I want to hit people with a bat until money magically comes out of them.
I'm waiting for the tollway at the Bay Bridge when MNS calls me.
"Hey. I am done and I will be back in about an hour and a half. Have you talked to <UC's real name which may be public knowledge but I will not put here just in case>?"
"<UC's real name again, and I refer you to the previous statement of it for why I am doing this>. you know, UC?"
"Oh... that guy. Uh.. no. I will call him."
So then I call UC and then pay the toll and then R343L. To coordinate this shizzle. I pull up to my hotel in the PTC and immediately have no idea what to do. A guy comes to the window and tells me that it is 43 dollars a day (plus tax) to park. I say this is fine since it's on the company bill really. They take the car (and my keys) and shoo away with it. I awkwardly try to take my own luggage, this is apparently a faux pas so a guy with a Top Hat and tails takes them in for me. I do not trust Top Hat Man. Top Hat Man is always out front and even though his face changes I know he is watching. I know it.
Anyway I do the whole desk check-in thing. "You are on the 6th floor Mr. Q, do have a nice stay with us."
6th? Fuck that, that is no kind of view out the window. I am hopeful there will be something good, but no, all I see is a mural of Barry Bonds painted on the building next to me (he whispers to me when I sleep and offers me steroids). Oh, and the Star Room, I can see the Star Room too but that's really about it.
Oh well. So I hop in the shower and get ready. UC calls basically the minute I am dressed stating he's at the hotel. I give him the room number and he comes on up.
He looks like Neil Gaiman if Neil Gaiman was an American. I cannot define what looks less British (other than the fact that he has all his teeth), it's just something. Also, he's like, two stories tall. He is the captain of the basketball team.
We exchange pleasantries as I nervously loom about the place in a fretty manner for whatever the hell reason.
UC seems very at ease however and we both sit down and stand up a lot (really it was like Catholic Church only without all the rape). Time passes as we discuss how he doesn't have to stay in a hotel for the night which is a good thing and how I have to assassinate Kennedy at just the right moment... blahblahblah.
More time than usual seems to pass and I call R343L to check her status.
"I am trying to find a parking space. I didn't really put that into my time equation when I said I'd be there in 30 minutes."
"Oh that's fine. Take your time, UC and I are making out."
"Okay, well I'll be there in a minute."
R343L joins the party in my room which consists of everyone kind of standing around staring as I blather on. I told R343L I could not decide how I was going to describe her, but I think it's because she reminds me of people none of you would know, so it would be foolish to do so in this space. She also plays on the Basketball team (not as much as UC, but still).
Finally I call MNS who is busy.. I dunno.. goat-fucking or something.
He informs me that "We are here." (We being the mysterious guest he was bringing with him as well; it was all so.. mysterious.)
So, I figured "here" meant at the hotel whereas he figured I thought "here" meant San Francisco. So after waiting for a while and then later clearing up this confusion we decide we're just going to meet at a restaurant called "Indian Oven" and R343L is going to drive there because her car has a map in it. (So this is a tip people, if you do not want to be a default driver drop your mapping.)
Either through my misinterpretation of my left and my right or through MNS' questionable directions, we cannot find the place to begin with, much less park. Eventually we are successful in both things.
As we walk up I see what looks like a whaler or some sort of hobo waving at us. This is MNS, who, beyond reminding me of a harpooning whaler, reminds me of Spider Jerusalem before he came down from the mountain (except no head hair, just the beard.) He does not harpoon and fillet us right there which I suppose is a good thing.
His guest is also there and was very nice as well. I will not say more about the mystery guest as I don't know if he wants everyone to know he brought Charles Neslon Reilly with him. (Oh dammit, did I just let that out? Fuck!)
We all head in to eat. The food was excellent, and I ate so much Garlic Naan that my body was actually trying to physically reject it when I had the last piece. (NOOOOOO it was saying but I was all.. fuck you body.. take this.)
We sat across from a mirror which is a little unnerving for me. (also the desk I am typing this on has a mirror behind it; this means that any time I am on the laptop I am sitting across from myself. I think i may take it down.) The waiter's all wore embroidered vests that made them appear as though they were planning on pulling out a guitar and Mariachi-ing it up AT ANY MOMENT!
Much was discussed, most of which was clearly all about everyone here (yes even you, you know who you are... don't look at me like that!) so I can't divulge any of it.
We left and Mystery Guest went about their separate way as well as we headed off to find a divey bar. We were discussing the first impression of fucking someone when MNS pointed out that this discussion is to be had on the other side of the street. No, really. He stopped me in the middle of a ramble and made us all move to the other corner to finish the discussion. We even went back the way we came when we walked off a few minutes later. We ended up somewhere with a lot of kids who thought they were pretty punk. MNS bought a round and asked what I wanted "Surprise me," says I, and lo did he come back with something pink for both of us. He claimed it was vodka and cranberry but we all know it was something else.
Oh, did I mention to everyone else yet that I think getting mauled by bears is really funny? Someone (I think MNS but it may not have been.. again.. all is kind of hazy) pointed out that there's a whole other level to that humor here in SF... which I have been giggling about all morning. Anyway that was just an aside.
So after we hang out there for a bit, talking and looking at stickers with strange breasts on them (also I remember yelling a couple times.)
From here there was some confusion. R343L was going to take UC back to BART because he is a reasonable person with responsibilities and children unlike fuckers like myself. I didn't have much more walkin' cash at this point so getting home would be an issue for me. MNS said he'd cover cab fare so against my better judgment (or in it) I stayed back and bided (bideted? Hell if I know.. can you past tense that word? Shit.) Mr. UC and Miss R343L a fine good night.
MNS and I shambled to another place... by then the Wine and Vodka and Bourbon were all "kicking it up a notch" as that fuckwit Emeril would say. Sometime around this point it was decided to call Tix.. oh and then J3 because we needed to know the name of that Frankenstein science-y thing. It was 2:30 J3 time... he was actually surprisingly amiable about this.
MNS then led me to a bar that had an outside portion where we sat on benches and watched a fight almost break out. He made me drink something that had bitters in it and then the bitters itself... and then something else.
I don't know man... it was crazy.
Then we ended up at a house until I couldn't move and decided that this was the sign that I should probably get to the hotel before I pass out.
MNS loudly protested stating we needed one more drink. I seriously considered it but then noticed how badly I was walking. My mouth was so dry that I could not say words with the letter S.. seriously.. my lips stuck to my gums and my tongue wouldn't exactly come off the roof of my mouth.
MNS shoves a tenner in my hand and leaves me by a place where cabs drive... waving and grunting something unintelligible as he shambles off into the night. (Seriously.. Spider Fucking Jerusalem.. i kid you not.. or Tyler Durden, but the one from the book; not the shiny fancy pants Brad Pitt one.)
Finally a cab stops as I try to stand still enough to look presentable. Quite a few passed me on their own despite this being a city that makes me look normal. (SF is like fucking your best friend's little sister for the first time once you're both older. Like, it's kind of embarrassing because you feel like you know her too well but at the same time it's just really comfortable. Well, I assume that's what fucking your best friend's little sister would be like anyway.)
The driver of this cab speaks VERY little English.
"Where to?! Where to?!" he says in a hurried sort of whatnot.
"Hyatt on Stockton." I get out, barely able to say the Stockton part.
I then spend the next what feels like eternity lolling about in the backseat like a hobo.
There's some confusion as to where I need to go IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DRIVE.
It would've been nice if he had cleared this up before the meter started running. I keep saying "Stockton Stockton!" but my mouth is so dry that it sounds like "'tocdun! 'tocdun!"
He drops me off and I go into the hotel... only, it's not MY HOTEL. No, this is the Hyatt Regency he dropped me off at where there's this spinny ball in the middle and all the rooms tower up in a ziggurat fashion "Hanging Gardens of Babylon" style. I could've wept people.. miles to go before I sleep i walk around the big globe trying to think of what to do (also talking to myself). There was a couple making out in the corner and they uncomfortably shuffled off after a few minutes of me doing this. I even rode the elevator as though it would magically be the right hotel if I just found the same room number.
Finally I just found someone who worked there.. "What'th da name of the CHhhhyatt on 'tocdun???"
"Uhh.. that's the Grand Hyatt."
I find another cab as if by magic and this guy spoke English. He was an older gentleman and got me there lickety split. I collapsed in my bed. When I woke up the bed was fully intact almost. It was as though i did not move at all from wherever I hit the pillow. My clothes were also in a pile the exact shame of me on the floor as if I had sliiiithered out of them.
Upon waking I immediately wished I hadn't.. then laughing fits hit me uncontrollably. I'm pretty sure my neighbors hate me. Also the ice machine makes noises like it is the titanic and is slowly settling on the bottom of the ocean. Oh and the shit in this room is far too fancy for me.
So I knew that if I did not leave right then and find some food on the company's dime I would not have any water to get myself back up and running before things got bad. I went to go move but I think I pulled something in my left calf last night, it hurt so bad when I moved it that I could not sit up for a second. I was terrified that I would have to figure out the whole hospital system and stuff here because clearly it was rickets. Turned out I just stretched it out and it's working again, except it still hurts when I move it a certain way. So I quick-showered and left.
I passed tons of different places but finally settled on some place that had mini-chickens on spits in the window. I do not know why I chose this place. I was disappointed though because it was Thai and Singaporean (Singaporan? Singadingadingdongian? Hell if I know.), which is not what I desired. I found something that sounded good anyway and ordered that.
That is not, however, what came. What came was something far too yellow. I don't even know what it was man.. and the Owner even came up to me and said "You like that dish?" in this sort of surprised look. I said yes, but in reality my stomach was bitching about it and the alien flavors which may have been interesting in normal Q mode were revolting in Hangover Q mode. The fact that I said yes mixed with the fact that I was eating it with chopsticks apparently proved I was some sort of aficionado in Thai food so he immediately tells me to stop eating it.
"I get you proper sauce for that!"
He runs to the back and comes out with this insanely hot sauce to put on the thing and smiles to watch me try it. I choke it down and smile all big. I bet they were fucking with me, just to see if they could get me to eat whatever shit they threw together. If this is the case though, the sincerity was palpable.
I smiled and ate enough not to offend, but mostly I drank the tea and ate the little bowl of rice. Oh and water.. water was important.
I got it boxed up thinking that maybe when I was in better shapes it would taste okay, but then I realized I have no fridge or microwave/stove/open cooking fire/lasers so it was basically useless to me. I gave it to some homeless guy because I don't like wasting things, but he seemed kind of hungover himself so I doubt it will really help him.
I was going to walk to the ocean but then the sun was out high in the sky and making me unnerved so I bolted back here to lay down where I am now finishing up this account.
Whew.. I could've done more expounding here (like about R343L's driving or UC's interesting way of involving his children in hotel activities) but this shit is long enough man. I need to go find a place that will sell me water in bottles on a company credit card anyway because I cannot be paying like 80 dollars for the tiny bottles they have in the bar here.
Thank you all who came for the fun; it was a blasty...
Soo... that's that.. more.. whenever.. you fucks.
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