Last night I found myself battling that monster that makes me drink copious amounts of Vodka and keeps me out so late that getting up early to go to work is enough to make me want to just give up on life.
The night began with some late evening bike part shopping at Valencia Cyclery and its sister shop Freewheel Bikes. I am currently shopping for a new light weight crank-set for my mountain bike.
My girlfriend and I made our way down to 16th street which is the place to be for restaurants and bars in the Mission District. We dropped by a small middle eastern dive for a shawarma and some tea.
I got a call from a friend that was running the table at Kilowatz across the street. Pool sounded good so we went to meet him after the grub. Kilowatz is a rock and roll/goth/biker kind of bar with a great jukebox, cheap beer and two pool tables. It seems as though every person in the bar loves to play pool and thus the chalkboard to sign up usually has 10 to 15 names scribbled about it. Some thing else to point out, is the fact that Kilowatz has what is known as ‘regulars’ and I have witnessed on numerous occasion that these ‘regulars’ tend to cheat the sign-up boards or just flat out lie about their name and actually argue about who is who with the actual person they are claiming to be until said person gives up and has a seat with his/her group of ‘non-regulars’. It’s a pathetic site but somewhat understandable and accepted by me and tends to remind me of the E2 leveling structure and the punch thyself(don’t go there!) node. (this makes me wonder, at what level is one considered a ‘regular’ on E2?)
Well, we got a bit drunk and my friend and I played some of the regulars for money. We actually walked out with an extra $40 in our pockets carefully looking over our shoulder for any disgruntled followers.
The three of us, which is My Friend Rene (guy), My girlfriend umm lets call her Bjork :-) and I moved ourselves to the Beauty Bar. We proceeded to drink. I had a glass of vodka (as usual) while we grooved and watched the fabulous babes of San Francisco get manicures and revel in the illusion that they/we were currently mingling in some post-porn movie completion party (at least that is the feeling that I get).
The night concluded with a Super Burrito and a Cab ride home.
Happy Birthday dmd!