I have absolutely no concept of time when it comes to weekend trips. The veggie boyfriend and I were going to leave for San Francisco early on Saturday morning and then come home late Monday afternoon. In my head I had a bunch of little things planned for us to do before we headed out for my friend’s wedding: stopping by the Wharf, grabbing brunch with a few friends, maybe running a hill for fun.
So how is it I forgot that there are only twenty-four hours in a day, and that about eight of those are spent sleeping?
We managed to do at least one real touristy thing.
Saturday night started off with dinner and a drag show at Asia SF. (If you’ve never been, I highly recommend it: drag queens dancing on bars and lip syncing and words with double meanings.) We hit up two more bars afterwards: Bourbon and Branch and Tradition. (I used to drink a LOT with this particular group of friends, and the wedding/reunion was an excellent excuse to cram in as much as possible to make up for lost time.) The veggie boyfriend kindly offered to be the designated driver, so no one was in any danger.
Sunday morning was going to be a calm day of brunch and walking around the city, or so I pictured. However, the Folsom Street Fair was set for that day, and the VBF wanted to check it out (he’d heard about it on a podcast). We knew that driving there wasn’t an option, so we relied on public transportation. Along the way I saw a few leather daddies, but nothing prepared me for seeing full-on naked men and women. All they had on were shoes (and maybe a leather strap or two). It’s definitely an interesting culture, but I think the VBF got tired of me winning at Genital Punch (the FSF version of Punch Buggy that I made up). I did get a few pictures in, but the safest one I can share with you is this one:
We raced back to the hotel, got showered and dressed, and caught a cab to the church. The ceremony was short and sweet, but what thrilled me to no end was the look of happiness on my friend’s face. The food at the reception was amazing, but I think it helped that her brand new husband is a sous chef. I hit a fashion faux pas when I discovered another woman wearing my dress, but I guess I can chalk it up to both of us having good taste.
Best Group Wedding Photo Ever. [Borrowed from my friend, Jorge.]
It was much too short of a trip, but it was nice to be able to get away for a bit. The VBF and I managed to last through two long car trips, a wedding, and being trapped in the same room together for hours at a time. I knew he was worth keeping around, especially after I came across this street sign:
Our initials are the exempt permits for the street we were walking on.