The funny thing is, whenever people come to visit, we spend most of our time in San Francisco. I guess staking out the Monterrey Market in hopes of a Michael Wild siting doesn't really scream "I'm on fucking vacation!"
Karen's visit to the Yay required a good balance of tit and tat, meaning sf and east bay, respectively. We did the hipster Mission thing one day and reserved the following day for supa'nasty oakland dancing. Fine, I may not be in the know as far what the hot shit is in the east bay but I'm not completely clueless either. The place we went had the potential of getting the job done had the crowd not been:
a) uggly as shit
b) subpar dancers - patrons of color, you disappoint me the most
c) accepting of the fucking awful DJ who played NELLY. N-E-L-L-Y!
The good thing is the drinks were strong. At the end of the night I couldn't even change into my jammies. But I pulled it together enough to make ravioli and cookies for Karen and I.
1 comment:
Wtf, was I drunk too when I took that picture? You would think so, but no, totally and entirely sober. You on the other hand, were still riding the crazy drunk train late into the night. Damn, it was so worth buying you that last jager shot!
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