Luck of the Longshot in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

With the clock ticking, I realized after a recent night out that I’m somewhat out of step with city life, having been locked into this dreary suburb for the last five years. It’s not that I don’t remember what living in a city is like, but having to navigate around a large metropolis on public transit is not something I’ve had to do for a long while… since basically public transit barely exists in any form as I know it in my city.

So I decided to do a little exercise: a day trip to San Francisco. Now, I’ve been San Francisco many times since I live so close, but I hate it so I usually stick to the same five places I always go with my friends. So the idea was to pop in during the morning, having a little fun visit, and catch the evening train back home.

I got up very early, I pre-purchased my train tickets so that I wouldn’t have to worry about getting that done in time. I caught the train and was in San Francisco by 9am. Unfortunately, I forgot how drastically different the weather was there… It had been nearly 93 degrees the day before in my hometown, but SF was 51 degrees, which is the dead of winter for my part of California.

So there I was, in the city without really a plan. I had an idea of some things I wanted to see, but really this was about “can I still do it?” I looked up tickets for the interactive Van Gogh exhibit because, even though I wasn’t really a fan of Van Gogh, some of my friends have gone and it looked like a neat little experience. However, the soonest tickets available were for September, and since I won’t even be in the country, obviously that’s not going to happen.

Then I remembered the California Academy of Science. The last time I’d been there was over 10 years ago, it was the night my mother took me and my little brothers there, and I snuck out to find Richard only to be ditched by his friends at Zeitgeist in a part of the city I didn’t know, and I wandered around for 4 hours in the middle of the night trying to find my hotel. That experience was the exact thing I was trying to avoid, or at least, find my way out of should it happen again, as much of a longshot as that is.

So I found a bus to Golden Gate Park, where the Academy of Science is located, bought my tickets and wandered in. So many memories flooded back to me. When I was a child, my grandmother took me here every summer because she loved it. Even though she was handicapped, she drove me all the way here and we walked around and looked at the fish, did the earthquake exhibit and looked at the stars in the planetarium. It was like I was 11 all over again.

I even went into the indoor rainforest because I realized that that will probably be the common weather where I’m moving to, so I’d better start getting an idea of what day-to-day life might feel like for me. I also read every sign in front of every animal very carefully… especially if they were a venomous spider. I need to know what kind of bullshit wildlife I need to expect.

It was wonderful, though, the butterflies and parrots fluttering around. The giant fish hovering near the surface of the lagoon below me. It really was a magical place. When I found myself at the exit, the albino alligator was swimming around his tank. Alligators rarely move, and in all of the times I’d visited, I’d never seen this guy so active. Ask for my Instagram if you want to see some pictures of him, because an albino alligator is wild to see.

While I was wandering around, I ran into an old friend of mine from Sacramento. We hung out quite a bit in 2004, before I started traveling and he moved away. He’s actually a very successful porn star now, and he barely remembered me until I said I was Richard’s best friend (everyone remembers Richard). He knew I knew who he was, though, because I didn’t call him Nic Sahara, I knew his real name. Haha

I needed some lunch, so I headed out to grab food. Ran into another old friend and started enjoying my afternoon. The Powerhouse was open, so I decided to grab a drink, but San Francisco is still in COVID lockdown, so it wasn’t as wild and crazy as it usually is, which is probably for the best. I bought a book, a sticker and a journal in the Castro, and a store had BOGO on poppers, so I got some of those, too.

Then my alarm went off to get the MUNI to my BART connection. However, MUNI was down, and when I finally arrived at my BART connection, which would take me to my train on the other side of the bay, my train had already departed. I was stuck in the city overnight.

My friend Eric, whom I haven’t seen in nearly three years, offered to let me stay with him, but he was almost 45 minutes south of the bay, which wouldn’t be that difficult to get to with BART, but then I’d have to take a 2 hour BART train back in the other direction to catch the morning train.

By sheer luck, my longshot happened again. What was I going to do? First, I called the train company to try to get a ticket rebooked, they had high call volume and said they’d call me back. Okay, next is to find some place to stay. I found a fair-priced hotel in the Tenderloin (I know, I know, but it was actually one of the cleanest hotels I’ve ever been in while visiting SF, so don’t let the fact that it’s in the Tenderloin [a notoriously run-down part of the city] deter you). After quite a bit of drama, I finally got to my room and that’s when the train company called me back.

After I explained the situation, they chided me for not calling sooner, “You missed your train two hours ago and you’re just calling us now?”

“No,” I explained, “I called two hours ago but you were busy, so you just called me back now!”

As it turned out, the morning train back was operated by a different, local company who had closed for the day, so I was going to have to call them once they opened at 8am in order to get the ticket transferred. However, so that I wouldn’t lose my reservation, he booked me on the ticket for the day after and that they should be able to switch, since they partner together or some such bullshit.

So, satisfied that I’d done all I could, I set my alarm for 5am and slept pretty soundly.

Early the next morning, I jumped the gun and was at the train station a full 2 hours before the train took off.... the problem being, the only morning train leaves at 7:42 am and I couldn’t call to get my ticket switched until after the company opened at 8am. Sure enough, the conductor came through, when the information I gave him didn’t show a reservation, he tried to get me to purchase a new ticket. I told him the situation, and he told me that I’d better call or he was going to throw me off the train on the next stop.

He gave me the phone number I’d called the night before, and stood there as I called. Once again, “All circuits are busy, but we will give you a call back as soon as the next representative is available…” FUCK ME. As luck would have it, I’d kept the conductor talking so long that it was now 8:03 am. I called the number, and it took a little bit of work, but I got the ticket switched just as we pulled into the next stop. Crisis averted… almost.

The reason they couldn’t rebook me the night before was because there were no trains going directly to my hometown, they were only going as far as Sacramento, which means that from there I’d have to find my own way.

Remember at the beginning how I said there was no public transit in my hometown, well, I discovered that that is not the case, it’s just woefully underused and underfunded. I did get home using a massive series of two lightrail trains, and six buses…

For the most part, I had a pleasant time. Every person I ran into was awful, but I knew that so I avoided people as much as possible. San Francisco has the meanest, most loathsome people I’ve ever met in my life. But I guess my exercise proved successful. I navigated the city, overcame my hardships and made it home safely… but in definite need of a shower.

Next time, I’ll be more careful when I ask for a refresher on a difficult experience.