In The Mission

Checking Out

Goodbye. Hello. 'Til next time. You're the best.
Be safe,

Filed under: Events 1 Comment


Overhearing a conversation, a young woman (straight) and a young man (gay). She tells a serpentine story about how her husband left her and how she held back her tears at the airport, only to cry inconsolably in her apartment. Way she tells it, the man finds it funny. They both laugh, she in a more resigned manner than him, having already had some time pass since the airport.

"So, I'm kind of a mess, my husband left me and I've been crying my eyes out, huge, snot-inducing, eye-swelling tears", she says, in summary.

"You should listen to Madonna. There's this great song she has."

In related news, it was the Mother Of All Street Parties People Dress Up For! SF Pride. 40 years, baby.

We staked out the craziness from above at P-Boss' place (thanks for the hospitality!)

Filed under: Buddies, Events No Comments

Wipe Out

One second I am riding my bike down Market St, going left to get out of the way of a bus that's pulling out of a stop. Next second I'm bleeding from my face, horrified sanfranciscans pulling me up on the street.

I figured I'd go around the bus, but realized I can't make it back to the sharrow in front of it, so I decided I'd go further left, around the streetcar stop. Watch out for the tram tracks, slippery because it was kind of raining. Good, made it. Now it's time to go back to the sharrow lane, watch out for the tracks again, make sure you come at an angle because your skinny wheels can get stuck in the groove. Clear those, but then the front tire slips on a metal grate and down I go.

I slam my face on the grate. I try to get up, but I can't because I'm stunned. Can't see properly. People pull me out of the street to the side. Blood. They take care of my stuff until the medics come. Some guy is taking pictures of me with his iPhone. Medics see my face and say, whoa. Everyone says, whoa. I am lucid in the ambulance, I know what day it is. Scared. The medics take care of me, they're friendly, reassuring. I will be okay, they say.

And I am. A little bruised, some stitches, but okay. I'm okay.

Yeah, just tried to get a cool shot of a bloody ring.

Filed under: Events No Comments