This weekend we played tourist. Friday night we ventured into Fisherman’s Warf. If you don’t like reading words, see pictures. I never, ever go to Fisherman’s Warf. Sure, I’ve been there a couple times since the In and Out Burger went in, one time I went to the Hyde Street Pier to look at the boats, but that’s about it. My friend Kaolin had told me Joe’s Crab Shack had good jalapeno poppers it it seemed like just the horrifying tourist trap we were looking for. It was almost too much to swallow, and they don’t have jalapeno poppers anymore, something about corporate taking them off the menu and ignoring requests to put them back on. Maybe a customer sued them for trying to secretly sneak spice into their lives.
The place is Horribe with a capital H, They have those margarita slushy machines and all sorts of tchotchkeys hanging from the ceiling. The menu includes dishes that have enough deep friend sea bugs to send a starving village to the cardiologist and the wait staff is frighteningly perky in a brainwashed kinda way. They do the birthday singing thing there with lots of yelling and hand clapping. But even scarier than that, some bad cover of Stayin’ Alive came on the stereo and all of the wait staff huddled in the middle of the restaurant and proceeded to line dance in unison. I’m not pulling your leg, I saw it with my own two eyes. When the music started, I started muttering to Tom “What’s happening! What’s happening!” Um, yeah, so scarey.
But after that we went to Jack’s bar in the Cannery building. Jack’s is one of those places that rebels against it’s tourist location. It’s like the black sheep on the cheerleading squad that refuses to smile and won’t go to a tanning booth like all good little cheerleaders should. The place takes cash only, they have 85 beers on tap, a pretty decent jukebox, and a wait staff that will only serve you when they feel like it. They have our favorite Tequila too – Herradura Reposado. Mmmm, tastes like wonderful memories of falling head over heals in love. We stayed for a long time. After drinks we headed to the Green Room for some comedy. The first two acts were just ok, sorta offensive to be honest. But the last guy was great. I actually laughed hard enough my cheeks hurt, and I’m not really a comedy club kinda girl.
Next day we went to North Beach. We tried to get breakfast at Mama’s but the lines was 3 weeks long. So we instead got some Molinari’s sandwiches (yum times a billion) and walked up to Coit tower. I haven’t been there since I was a wee small child. Boy is it short. I could kick it over pretty easy if I just ate a bowl of spinach beforehand or maybe chewed a Flinstone’s vitamin. The weather was unbeilivably crystal clear. My favorite part was watching the tourists cuss about how the foliage was too high. Damn nature! Blocking my view of all the pretty concrete!
So yeah, that was fun. You should do some tourism yourself. Anyone want to go to Alcatraz with us? Tom’s never ever been there before. I know! It’s terrible!