My roommate is a member of a climbing gym in San Francisco. Since she has become a member, she has encouraged a slew of other people to take up the sport of rock climbing and thus become members of said gym. Yesterday was "bring a friend day" for all members. You see, in order to efficiently climb you must attend with someone who can take turns belaying with you - so "bring a friend day" is a pretty profitable idea for all parties involved. Except of course for those of us that don't know what they're doing and have been roped in (no pun intended) due to the evils of peer pressure. Side Note: I would definitely consider climbing to be one of the more hardcore sports, especially for people who actually know what they're doing. But I can't help myself from giggling when I see a sufficiently hung member of the opposite sex squeeze into one of those awkwardly placed harnesses.
We spent about three hours at the gym, which is located in Chrissy Field with a beautiful view of the Golden Gate Bridge and Marin County. Unfortunately, this excellent location comes with the downside of being really out of the way from the rest of the city. While it's surprisingly convenient to get to, it's really a pain in the ass to get home especially if you're bikeless/carless. My roommate had the brilliant idea to hitchhike home and we were picked up by two non-homicidal climbing dudes (non-members like myself). The duo was a part of a larger group that was intending to reward themselves for their rigorous activities by dining at the In-n-Out restaurant in Fisherman's Wharf, which happens to be on the same path as several conveniently routed bus lines. Needless to say it was a pretty successful hitch, being my first and all (until of course we were forced to wait for lazy bus drivers on some sort of time code, but hey we got to meet a few crazy crack heads which is something I always enjoy). To the two guys that picked me and my roommate up: thanks for the ride, but I really wish you would have abducted us so I could have got a double double animal style.
On to our next adventure: a snazzy VIP party for the opening of the musical WICKED - a la, free green vodka drinks, 90's pop rap, drunk actors, and people that think they're important. What a prime destination for shmoozing and people watching! Some celeb spottings: Carol Kane (you may recognize her as the teacher in Jawbreaker), that evil guy from "Heroes" and some other crazy actors, including one who hit on me after he insisted we had met before. This older, ragged couple dressed in pleather and chains was slightly out of place. I wanted to see them get kicked out, but I lost track of them when I was verbally raped by this ridiculously drunk dude who asked me "where do your lips come from?" and I said, "my mother" to which he responded, "we must go find her and thank her!" That's when I excused myself to go to the restroom and left my roommate to fend for herself with the pompous art gallery owner. There were these other two guys that were dancing with us for a bit, and one of them seriously looked like a younger, Indian version of Jeff Goldblum. We were finally kicked out by the cleaning crew, only after stealing and chugging two beers.
As we were waiting for the bus stop my roommate and I started to drunkenly speak in French to each other, when we were interrupted by a curious, young-looking Swiss man. After sharing a short bus ride with him and doing some Swiss geography, we decided to invite him over for some French wine and a good ol' fashioned American game of Scrabble! I obviously dominated, but it was thoroughly amusing to watch this guy form words, especially after the splif. We later found out his name was Simon and exchanged numbers before sending him on his way. I hope he made it home okay.
All in all, it was an exciting night of random encounters with horny drunk nerds. Just another night in SF.
wow.
ReplyDelete