Now, DRINKING outdoors -- THAT'S something I can get behind.
Internets, I went for a quick run on my lunch break along SF’s famous Embarcadero (which used to be a hellhole under an elevated freeway [see Dirty Harry] before the 1989 earthquake fucked the freeway up real good and thank the merciful Shatner, the people of this city said now let’s wait a minnit here – do we HAVE to rebuild an elevated freeway? and answered themselves: no. no we don’t.).
Lots of outdoor eating places along the Embarcadero. Some moderately priced, most hi-toned. And because it was the kind of day that makes me want to run outdoors (86 and sunny), everybody and their co-workers and their sister visiting from Yonkers was sitting outside to eat.
Let me state this for the record: EATING OUTSIDE IN SAN FRANCISCO TOTALLY BLOWS.
No, shut up, it does. It always SOUNDS like such a great idea -- the town is sunny and not prone to temperature extremes. It always LOOKS like a nice day to eat outside. People always want to eat outside on the 7th-floor terrace of my office building. The outdoor parts of restaurants are always full up. People always believe the lie.
But goddammit, one day in about seven hundred is actually the type of mild, windless day that it looks like it is, and meanwhile the other 699 of 700, you’re either roasting or freezing (or both, simultaneously), the wind is whipping your fucking hair across your face so you keep getting mouthfuls of it with your lunch, hot food gets cold while the sun melts the ice in your drink, the fucking pigeons know no fear (nor do the homeless people), little tornados of used paper napkins and sand and cigarette butts dance around between the tables, and meanwhile you’re getting burned by the deceptive-ass sun shining fully down on your un-sunscreened face as you try to keep your goddamned plate from sailing into the bay and taking your fucking fifteen-dollar sandwich with it.
Lots of outdoor eating places along the Embarcadero. Some moderately priced, most hi-toned. And because it was the kind of day that makes me want to run outdoors (86 and sunny), everybody and their co-workers and their sister visiting from Yonkers was sitting outside to eat.
Let me state this for the record: EATING OUTSIDE IN SAN FRANCISCO TOTALLY BLOWS.
No, shut up, it does. It always SOUNDS like such a great idea -- the town is sunny and not prone to temperature extremes. It always LOOKS like a nice day to eat outside. People always want to eat outside on the 7th-floor terrace of my office building. The outdoor parts of restaurants are always full up. People always believe the lie.
But goddammit, one day in about seven hundred is actually the type of mild, windless day that it looks like it is, and meanwhile the other 699 of 700, you’re either roasting or freezing (or both, simultaneously), the wind is whipping your fucking hair across your face so you keep getting mouthfuls of it with your lunch, hot food gets cold while the sun melts the ice in your drink, the fucking pigeons know no fear (nor do the homeless people), little tornados of used paper napkins and sand and cigarette butts dance around between the tables, and meanwhile you’re getting burned by the deceptive-ass sun shining fully down on your un-sunscreened face as you try to keep your goddamned plate from sailing into the bay and taking your fucking fifteen-dollar sandwich with it.
Labels: dead to me, first-world problems, things that sound great but really aren’t once you think about them
posted by Gleemonex at 3:36 PM
4 Comments:
G - this is EXACTLY the experience I had when I was up there this last time. I was like "What the hell, I swear it looked beautiful just a second ago!"
I would also add that that wind will freeze your too-to-hot-to-eat pad thai on the way from the still steaming pile in the bowl on its way to your mouth.
You should write one of those NFT guides.
Well let me tell you about lunch outdoors in downtown Topeka KS, oh I can't it doesn't exist, these people don't go outside. It is horrific they hole up inside the Wal Mart food court chain smoking and griping about the humidity. Sorry if I can ache for ya, you know my stance. I would eat hot cold pigeon shit every day to be out side and not coughing up my lung as I order a slice of pizza at the Sbarro's and pay cash for my shoelaces, coffee pot and gallon of OJ. Mid West Siede
Jory, I believe I've had that exact same pad thai experience. Grrrr. After TEN years in this city I think I'm finally learning.
Topeka Baby: I hear you, I do! (I mean, after I stopped laughing over your post, of course! The best comedy is made during bad times,you know ...) My hometown is lots like yourn sometimes ... so hey, whyncha move on back here? Huh? huh? c'mon!
Take the ferry to Tiburon and eat on the patio at Guaymas or that place down the way with the great cioppino (Sam's maybe?).
do eet
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