a tale of two dates

“Hey man, you hungry?”

Those are four of the most powerful words I know.

I was standing in line at the Civic Center Burger King, having just ordered my meal after a fairly forgetful okcupid date, and was lost in my own head when a guy standing next to me asked if I had $0.38 so he could buy a cup of water.

“What?”

“I need $0.38 so I can buy a cup of water.”

“They charge for water?!”

He was holding an empty liter bottle of water in his hands and a small 6 oz crappy plastic cup. You know, the tiny free water cup. Thirty-eight fucking cents!

“No man, they’ll give me water, but I need to buy the cup.”

Normally I say no to the indigent. But this indignity made me indignant.

I fumbled out a dollar to give to him and for about 10 seconds, watched him try to pay the counter worker so he could fill his crappy 6 oz cup, and then the ridiculousness of the situation struck me.

“Hey man, you hungry?”

“Naw, I’m all good. Just wanted a cup of water.”

“Dude, I know you’re hungry. Come on, let me buy you dinner.”

“Aight, I jes’ go for some nuggets, man.”

“Get as many as you want. It’s all good.”

“20’ll do me.”

“You sure you don’t want more? How about a drink?”

“Hey you have free refills?” to the counter worker, who shakes his head. “Nah, I’m cool with this water and them nuggets. Hey you want your dollar back?”

I shook my own head. He asked my name and then introduced himself as Kevin. As I handed over my credit card for the second time, I thought I was done. Having bought the man some food, he’d go away, and I could eat my own meal while playing with my äppärät.

Kevin shambled away while I waited for my card and set his empty water bottle and slim backpack on a table. Then yelling and gesturing at me:

“Yo Alex, you wanna eat with me?”

After pausing for just long enough to think but not long enough to be awkward but also right before Kevin just kinda disappeared, I said “Yeah sure why not.”

I got my meal and sat at our table, deducing that Kevin was in the bathroom. I watched his stuff like I would watch anyone’s stuff for them in a public place near San Francisco’s Civic Center. Kevin came back and I got my first good look at him. There were tiny white spots salted on his black face. I was mildly alarmed at his skin condition until several minutes into our dinner when some of them fell off. Bits of paper towel, I decided, the cheap kind that Burger King stocks and that fall apart when they get wet.

Kevin asked me what I was doing. “You just out and about?”

“Yeah man, just came from SOMA.”

“Oh whatchoo doin’ there?”

I figured why hide anything. “Oh, I was actually just on a date.”

“Whatchoo all do onnadate?”

“Just drinks. I’m here now.”

“Shit man, I just left my girl. It’s a long story. Too long to get into. How old areya?”

“35.”

A smile. “Same age as me.”

There but for the grace of god, go I.

Kevin alternated between rapid-fire questions and highly entertaining monologues.

“How long you lived out here?” (About 2 years) “Where you from?” (NJ. Where *you* from?) “I’m from Oakland, but my mom lives in Sac. I like it here in Frisco better. Spent some time in jail. Came here after that. Why’d you come here?” (Job. Weather. And where I was had too many white people. I wanted to hang with brown folks.) “Ah man, people are people, you know what I mean?”

[mildly surprising to learn that I am more pissed off about race than he was…]

“Man, I had a great summer. Went to Waterworld. Went to Magic Mountain. Went with my buddy. Was cool, but then we had to stop hanging out because he was all into me. I mean, he a cool guy and all and he’s gay, but I had to tell him I’m not into that. I mean, he was really into me, but you know, I ain’t gay. Got a little awkward. I mean, I let him suck my dick and he wanted to get all these candles out and shit. Shit man, I don’t know why I just told you that story.”

[I didn’t know why either, but it was an amazing story]

“You like football?” (Um… no, not really.) “Baseball? Basketball?” (I… don’t really watch much sports. How about you? You a Raiders fan?) “Naw, I just love good football. Raiders probably 0-10 this year. But if we talking AFC… the Broncos are good.” (Oh yeah, I like Peyton Manning. And I guess I like the Giants too. NY Giants, that is.) “Eli got more rings than Peyton.” (Right, he’s got 2.) “Ah shit, see you know a little something about football!”

“My girlfriend, I had to break up with her. You know what sadomasochism is? Man she was all into that shit and it was fun at first but then she was really into it and it started making me crazy and the more crazy I got, the more she got off on it. Man, one time she wanted me to piss on her but I didn’t want to do it but she kept asking so I pissed into a cup and then threw it on her. BAP-tized that bitch! But I had to go.”

[amazing story #2]

“You see any good movies lately? What movies you like?” (Last thing I saw was Django Unchained, and thought that was pretty good.) “Man that’s a revenge movie. You just like it because it’s shooting white people! You crazy!”

[cue long discussion about who the star of Django Unchained was without resolution]

“Man someone stole my backpack with my clothes, my phone, and my Samsung Galaxy Tab. Now I don’t got no phone!” (That’s terrible, why would someone do that? (response was a blank stare (so I guess there are stupid questions after all) followed by more monologuing)) “Backpack had the clothes I liked. This one I just went to Goodwill and got it. You work a job? That’s the good thing about being homeless I guess. Don’t nobody make you have to be nowhere. I’m like…. a nomad. A Frisco nomad!”

[a bona fide local says Frisco unabashedly, so I’m taking my cues there]

Kevin mumbled something about politics so I asked what he thought of Obama. “He’s a pawn. There’s a global elite and he’s just a pawn. He is controlled by entities that are… not of this realm. The Federal Reserve doesn’t exist. You walk into a bank and get a loan for five thousand dollars, they don’t print no five thousand dollars and give it to you, they just type that into a computer and somehow that’s money. You know that ain’t money! David Icke, you know him? You gotta read his stuff. That’s I-c-k-e. Reptilian theory, 4th dimension. Small global elite rule everything man. It’s all there.”

And while I thought Kevin actually had a pretty good grasp on how our modern banking system works, he lost me a bit when he mentioned reptilian theory.

In any case, an hour had passed, and I was ready to go. I’d already insisted earlier that he eat my onion rings because “I was full” (which he did with gusto), and now I asked if he wanted the rest of my soda, but he laughed at me when I said it was Diet Coke.

“Well, what do you like to drink instead?”

“Dr. Pepper man. But you heard that guy, no free refills.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Walking up to the counter, I handed the service worker my mostly full cup. “I ordered this Diet but didn’t really like it. Can I get a Dr. Pepper instead, please?” (Sure, no problem.) I can’t remember the last time I used my class privilege in such a blatant manner no matter how minor. But hey, I asked politely, so no harm, right?

Kevin said, “Hey man, why’d you help me? I wish I didn’t get my Galaxy Tab stolen. I’d show you a movie to say thank you. Hey what’s your number? I’ll get my phone back and you gotta read that Icke I-c-k-e and you can tell me what you think.”

I paused again… and then thought, fuck it, why not. I gave it to him.

I won’t call that girl back, but if I get a random text from Kevin, I’ll answer it.

fleeting weekend

tacos de metate

Weekend #2 in the left coast started out quite delicously. Some people take photos of their dogs. Or their babies. You know, stupid stuff like that. I take photos of things that are pure awesome sauce viz., food. Rebecca was amused, claiming only “Asian people do that”. To that, I say “Well, Rebecca, only robots shoot lasers out their eyes and have rocket packs”. As usual, my logic was undefeatable.

gigglepants

Saturday saw a nice hike up Mt. Tamalpais with Jeff’s brother Joel and his wife Jenny. According to Jenny’s pedometer, we walked approximately 1347896134689 steps that day, which I think translates into the maximum distance a Saskatchawaneanian spotted skink would travel for poutine.

blue angels

It was Fleet Week here, and although I only saw half of Sunday’s air show, it was nonetheless, awesome. Unfortunately, fog moved in right when the Blue Angels were about to perform, so they scuttled the show.

No worries though, because your intrepid explorer did manage to find some entertainment after all. Riding the bus home, a fine gentleman who had partook in just one too many Steelhead Reserves sat in the rear stairwell, alternately singing, screaming, mumbling, speaking in tongues, spitting, and threatening to urinate on himself and would the bus driver kindly please let him off the bus because he didn’t want to be a prisoner. After about 15 minutes of this nonsense, the bus doors finally opened, whereupon the gentleman apparently had a change of heart and wanted to stay on the bus after all.

But as I soon discovered, big city justice is swift and unerringly meted out. A fellow traveler thoughtfully launched the gentleman’s belongings out the rear door and helpfully explained, “get the fuck off the fucking bus you fucking drunk fuck”, whereupon the gentleman elected to participate in this meeting of the minds, grabbing the door preventing it from closing, and inquired multiple times if the helpful traveler wouldn’t like to step out the bus and “come be my bitch, you cock-sucking pussy motherfucker”.

It wasn’t until this moment that I realized a single man could prevent an entire diesel-powered city bus from moving, but apparently the “Reserve” in Steelhead Reserve stands for a reservoir of superhuman powers gifted upon you, an observation I note here and remember for the next time there is an earthquake and Muni needs me to go lifting trains and buses off the Golden Gate.

This little repartee had serious legs and looked to continue for the rest of the afternoon, but luckily for us all, a good samaritan waiting for his bus at the stop intervened and captured the gentleman’s imagination, by which I mean the gentleman was probably imagining how much better he would have felt the next morning if he hadn’t repeatedly used his head to probe how hard the sidewalk was. The good samaritan gently encouraged the gentleman to try several times, while we mere penny stinkards on the bus applauded merrily as we finally pulled away.

attention to detail, 1

After this bit of excitement, I found peace and tranquility and a big honking bowl of ramen in Japantown, and thus did the weekend come to pass.

See all the photos.