asian hookers, false alarms and sea lions

Monday I met M in the city for some adventuring. I was early and, once again, faced with the horrific choice between listening to the crazy christian college kid with the megaphone trying to save souls OR braving Forever 21 which was our proposed meeting place.

I chose option three which was trying to find a place to grab a drink until she showed up. Quick highlight from the Christian with the megaphone (although I already wrote about these fools):

"Evolutionists want you to believe your great grandfather was a monkey! How crazy is that? It's insane! Doesn't make any sense!"

Yeah. THAT'S crazy. What's up talking snakes.

So i ended up around the corner at this semi shmancy place that claimed to be the real bar where the guy from the Maltese Falcon used to fictionally eat. Sam Spade maybe? Humphrey Bogart played him in the movie. I'd like to entertain with the details, but both film noir and detective novels bore the fuck out me.

M finally showed up and we schlepped it (i'm using that wrong. it was an easy walk, but god i love jewey verbs) to china town so i could buy a kimono for someone and M could take pictures for a movie she's making.

We ended up grabbing some drinks at this brothel/karaoke bar. Fools were sitting on couches being seduced by asian hookers and i got this vibe from the bartender like we were wasting her time because we just wanted to drink and flip through the karaoke catalog which, besides the usual standards, also offered bootleg dvds of current new releases.

I have to admit that, for a second, when M said she was taking me to a brothel i thought maybe our first night on the town together would start with a wicked threesome with an asian call girl. No such luck but, M, if you're reading this... hint hint... Asian hooker threesome.

We grabbed some dinner in north beach. Our waitress was funny AND hella fine (you don't see "hella fine" too much these days. thanks for keeping it in style gabe meline), but she was also, like, the worst waitress ever.

We had to wait forever for our check etc and by the time we got to Pier 39 everything was shutting down. M schmoozed the girls in the arcade into letting us hang out a few extra minutes before they locked up. I got my ass handed to me in some low rent Wipeout rip off, but hey, i was in an arcade with a rad girl so it didn't nag at my ego too much.

What else.. Sea lions... Cute photographs.. BART ride home.

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Check it out: N, B and K crashed out my house on thursday. B was fucking filthy and showed up on my doorstep smelling every minute of his three week salmon fishing expedition in alaska. K is a dog and also a likely, though less likely, candidate for disease spreading parasites.

N woke up in the morning with some kind of insect bite on her leg. I had a bite on my arm. The general consensus was spider bite.

I had launched a campaign of fear against the spiders last summer (partly out of my own crippling fear - partly out of pride), but it could be they've mustered up some courage and are, once again, on the attack. They have to be stopped because I do, after all, pay the rent and that entitles me to not have the shit scared out me by spiders in the middle of the night.

So anyway N had this bite and the next day she showed it to her dad who's like this brain surgeon or astronaut or something awesome which led to this call:

"Hey"

"Hey so my bite has this big, red circle around it and my dad's a doctor and he's positive it's Lyme's disease and writing out prescriptions for us for antibiotics and i'll be by later to drop it off. You've got to get to a pharmacy as soon as possible blah blah blah scary scary scary"

"Wait isn't that shit caused by tics? What is Lyme's disease? Calm down. My bite doesn't have any rings or anything. It looks mellow"

"No. You HAVE to take care of this. Lyme's disease tics are practically invisible and you need to burn all your belongings and vacuum. Be there soon with your prescription. Bye"

"Wait. Vacuum? Hello?"

So panic right? I leaped at wikipedia. Suddenly my whole body itched. I was freaked out. There are republicans in the white house. Seventy eight percent of american's believe noah's ark is a true story. I don't need this right now.

Which was followed by this call:

"Hey so i talked to my aunt (also a doctor) and she said there's, like, zero percent chance you have Lyme's disease and I probably just have a spider bite and it turns out these tics need to be on you for, like, thirty six hours and are super rare in california (rarer in urban apartments i would think) and it's a big false alarm. Bye"

"Hello? Wait. Hello?"

Again, we never even saw a tic. I vacuumed anyway, but only because there's nothing like a freshly vacuumed studio apartment.