I’ve been hearing for weeks about how exciting it is that “Bay to Breakers” would be occurring on my second Sunday in San Francisco.
It’s a 12k race that goes (shockingly) from the bay to the ocean beach. And for everyone who doesn’t run it–and even some who do–it’s an excuse to dress up in outrageous costumes and start drinking at 8am.
I went with my cousin and her friends and tried to throw myself into the SF spirit. Dancing in the streets with strangers! More of those cute bear suits I saw last week! Freedom to consume alcohol in a public park and the port-o-potties to make sustained drinking possible!
But mid-way through a text conversation with my mother about how many winter jackets I’d need her to send to get me through June in San Francisco, she demanded, “Doesn’t anyone in California have anything better to do than dress up and get drunk on the weekends?”
This got me thinking about what people did in New York that was so much better. I was deflated and ready to start worrying again, so, after stealing a water gun and trailing after a rolling DJ booth playing Michael Jackon, my cousin and I headed to the De Young Museum, and then ended the day with errands.
Then I realized that errands are something people in New York City can really get behind. Even if the errands include getting an eyebrow wax and buying hummus, doing them means that you are checking things off your to-do list. Apparently, getting drunk and dressing up like a sailor means you have nothing better to do.
Having lived both ways in one day, I can’t really say that any items on my to-do list felt more important than anything I did earlier in the day. In fact, I even forgot to do my most important errand: Buy soap. Yeah, San Francisco!
If only college was this much fun when I was actually in college.
No word how long it would take someone to solve this. Probably largely contingent on whether the rest of the pieces got completely drunk and lost, or were waiting on a monster line for the bathroom.
This float played “Born to Run.” I got really excited and serenaded my cousin with the lines, “Wendy let me in/I want to be your friend/ I want to guard your dreams and visions.” She promised me that liking Bruce Springsteen was nothing to be ashamed of.
Somewhere near this goalpost were two referees and football players. All team members aided in reconstructing it when it fell apart outside Popeye’s.
We passed this house four times trying to find missing friends, and a bathroom.
This duck played “Keep on Loving you.” We totally wanted it to keep on loving us, too.
Chewbacca was there. Where else would he be? It’s not like his to-do list is that pressing, either.