I recently went to San Francisco with hubby, and we packed every minute with activities, food and fun. Now I’m exhausted. Along with exhaustion, here are a few things that drove me crazy in San Francisco.
(I’m not sure about my heart, but I definitely left most of my income in San Fran.)
Scalded Mouth: I ordered peppermint tea without realizing they used a nuclear detonation to heat the damn thing. I let it steep for several minutes, blew on it, carefully took a sip–and completely welded my tongue to the roof of my mouth. Blisters formed, and I spent the rest of the day using my tongue to pop the blisters, pulling shredded skin from the top of my mouth. (Note: Don’t do this at dinner. It tends to disgust your marital partner.)
Line jumpers: We stood in line at the Santa Cruz beach, waiting ever so patiently for our turn on the Sky Glider (the ride that carries you gently across the boardwalk), when an entire freakin’ family pushed past nearly 100 people to go to the front of the line. We were all too shocked to say anything. But we all secretly hoped they fell off the ride halfway across the boardwalk.
This: (Silver Robot Man)
(Is this still a thing?)
Sourdough Bread: I love sourdough bread. Let me clarify, I love the soft, fluffy inside of sourdough bread. The crust? Not so much. Especially when my mouth is scorched from drinking scalding tea. The problem with sourdough bread is that each bite must be completely smothered in butter. Soft, delicious butter. (It’s a law. Look it up.) So, now my a** looks like a loaf of sourdough bread.
Wind: Here’s how I looked most of the time in San Francisco:
People! People! People!: What you see in an aerial view of the San Francisco Bay: Golden Gate Bridge, Fisherman’s Wharf, the Ghirardelli Chocolate Company. What you don’t see: the hordes of people standing on top of each other to see these tourist attractions. (This also includes traffic. There are more cars in San Fran than in the entire continent of Asia. Proven fact–but don’t check.)
The SF Giants: Really, Giants? We traveled from Salt Lake to watch you play in your super-duper AT&T stadium, and you couldn’t even score ONE run. Really? Did you have other things to do that night?
(Ah der. . . . Yep. I’m a pitcher. I get paid millions of dollars. Ah der.)