San Francisco

"Fresno, welcome to the freak show!"

Boy, I don’t even want to describe San Francisco to y’all who probably think of it romantically. But shit, I have never felt like such an old school gentleman than I did there. I kept looking at the MOTHERF—— FREAKS that roamed the streets, and every time I did I got a vision of my Dad, complete with his perfect accent, “But you agree with their politics!” To which I answered, HELL NO! I’d vote against gay marriage my whole life if it means not bein one of these people! I never felt so normal in my life.

RNJ and Abazu have somehow been Fresnoized and ditched me on Thursday. I tried to prove how independent I am by going to San Francisco for Cannabis Freedom Day with the NORML people that I didn’t really know. And to be honest, they were some weird folks. Actually, they weren’t that weird. But they were the most obvious, ridiculous, stereotypical losers I’ve ever met. They met almost every stereotype imaginable of losers. I felt like I was in a movie. The dude liked to spout out random facts (“facts” really) and once finished one by saying, (while awkwardly making eye contact with me through the rear-view mirror) “And that’s why they call me knowledge.” I guess that’s his nickname.

Then later he was driving crazy (he was absolutely the worst driver I have EVER ridden with, I was f-ing terrified) and said, “I don’t drive fast, I fly low.” No irony… none. His car had a camera that showed what was behind you when you backed up. I freaked out because it was so new and amazing to me. He STILL had to readjust literally 5 times to parallel park. One of the times he completely started over, but he wouldn’t let anyone get out of the car to help him. Then we finally parked and he told us to wait and got out of the car and then got back in and readjusted two more times. I hope my writing makes this sound as tedious as it was. Later we spent literally an hour looking for a Chili’s. After half an hour I got the courage to say, “You know, we could eat somewhere else, ha ha, ha.” No response. It had to be a freaking Chili’s! Why!?!? WTF!?!?

But dude, the worst incident ever. Loser dude walked to the restroom in Carl's Jr. Two gross looking homeless girls ask him what time it is. He whips out his phone to find out. They ask if they can use it. He politely says no and walks toward the bathroom. They stop him by saying, “Our friend is in there.” He asks, “Are you in line?” They respond, “No, we already used it.”

We already used it

Words cannot describe how grossed out I was at that point. I had to pee bad, and there was nothing on this earth going to make me go to that bathroom. The other group of bums was discussing various issues and they looked scary.

We ate the food in the car.

I mean, even the bums were a bunch of freaks! We finally got to city hall where the event was taking place. It was small, yard sale small. Not the big, cool event I was hoping for. I thought the whole ‘legalize weed!’ movement was somewhat mainstream. I was wrong. This was a fringe group of scary people. Everyone looked messed up, and they were weird. Three separate guys in their 60s and 70s were there with tattoos, fucked up and dancing. They were – and they were certainly in their heads – living out the real dream of the hippies to live that life as long as they live. But dude, these were old men who should’ve had families and relatives, and it was scary as Hell seeing them act this way. They were just too old for that! Call me bigoted, call me whatever you like, but it scared me then and I hate it now.

In an unrelated incident of how I don’t understand Californians, I saw a friend of mine get a sales pitch thrown at him, which he declined. Thinking it would make good conversation, I went and asked him what that craaaaaazy man had offered him. He looks at me confused – and points directly to the man, who gives me the same lame-ass sales pitch. I say “no” in a way that says “Are you seriously trying to sell me this bullshit” and “I can’t believe he just directed me to a scammer” at the same time.

I got tickled by one song by this old man playing blues. The song went, “I’d rather be sloppy drunk, than (blah blah blah).” And he sang it with this rough, heavy voice that suggested he really WOULD rather be sloppy drunk than anything else. It wasn’t a comedy song but I thought it was funny as Hell, hilarious in its own right on top of the irony of playing this ode to alcohol at a weed convention. I saw him later smoking a cigarette and had the brilliant idea of asking him if he really would rather be sloppy drunk than anything, but chickened out.

Lastly, the people I was with were big time liberals, yet they still had the central valley mentality. We arrived promptly at noon, walked around very organized and normal (read: none of the ridiculous mischief I’m used to getting into), and then left promptly at 5. Inside the incredibly generic Chili’s the leader of the group said he knew it felt early, but we’d be glad we left early after the long ride home. I felt like I was with someone’s Dad, but not my Dad, because he’s not that lame. Also, the main chick in the group made no less than 5 statements about how she was glad a man was driving, how men anchor their women, how great gender roles are, and other 18^th-century shit I couldn’t believe was coming from a girl in 2009 much less a marijuana legalization advocate. Oh and one dude almost threw up from drinking two beers.