Today I had my first In-N-Out Burger. And it was freaking delicious. I'm encouraging the company to move to the north east, please.Yulia had lab work to do for her grad school stint today, so EGo and I went and met up with my friend Bart in San Fran. Bart used to be one of my sales associates from when I was an assistant manager at a Hot Topic in Rockaway, NJ. Bart packed up and left when he was eighteen, and has been living in Cali for about a year and half, now.
We take the BART train to meet up with Bart (ah, funny how that works.) The BART is just like DC's metro system. I'm fine with that. It's clean and easy to navigate.
We meet up with Bart at an Oakland stop and then head into the city. San Francisco is totally a hippie/street punk town. We were in the Haight neighborhood (and yes, we did go up Haight Street, but on a bus, thanks, because all of us would have had heart attacks walking that steep-ass hill).
We get off once the street levels out, and there are shops galore. A lot of head shops, and a ton of tattoo/peircings places. I stop in one and get some 00 gauge plugs. I was right; my ears have stretched beyond a 0 because these doubles fit perfectly in my ears.
Bart takes us to get some beer at a corner store, then we go to Golden Gate Park. He leads us to a part of the park that's called Hippie Hill. People smoke weed and drink openly in this part of the park. And it's obvious that this is what happens and is the norm, because a few of the groups on the hill are doing exactly that. EGo and I bust out the beers, Bart busts out his bowl and smokes. EGo and I pass, but we sit, drink, and chill, talking to Bart until it gets too windy and cold for us to sit still any longer. Here's Bart and me, freezing our asses off:As we're leaving, Bart and I have beers in our hands. A cop drives through the park, clearly sees that we have open alcohol containers, and leaves us alone. I could get used to that.
We accompany Bart to his friends place in the Mission district. EGo flips a shit because the Hells Angel's San Fran chapter leader was killed by an MS-13 gang recently, and as such, a lot of retaliation shootings have been happening in the Mission. He turns around, pissed off, to go back to Berkeley, but once Bart convinces him that the house we're going to is half a block away, he comes with us. (No one is shot in this story, by the way.)
We chill at Bart's friend Jay's place. Jay is a nice dude; he shares a ton of Sapporo beers with all of us. In his building, you can get up to the roof by climbing over a railing and then up the side of the roof, so we did that.
The rest of the night was spent with us getting drunk, and Jay and another one of Bart's friends (her name is escaping me at the moment) playing guitar and singing in the kitchen. Harmonizing, everything. It was awesome.
Then we took the BART back to Berkeley, where I passed out on my sleeping bag on the floor. Beer for dinner made me sleepy.