Caterwauling

It’s sad that I saw so little of San Francisco outside of the hotel, although a nice hotel it was indeed — my dream is to own a Marriott bed.

In any event, although we did eat at some magnificent restaurants with outstanding vino (and I somehow got trapped into talking about my past life as a sex-toy salesgirl), our main view of the city was from the inside of a cab. One colleague bought postcards upon which she planned to write, “I didn’t see this, nor do I even know where it is.”

Don’t forget the caveat that we will all be mailing them from D.C.! 😉

I did try to get my Tarot cards read, but I couldn’t find the entrance to the place but ended up inquiring about said Tarot business inside a nice crappy porn store.

A vacation highlight: Flipping through a copy of “Barely Legal” and getting accused by the store merchant of trying to get away without paying for it. Ha! I’ll leave the rest of the story unfinished, but it involved trying to hail a cab with boobs. (Not mine!)

What a strange and fun weekend. Moments of happy were brief, but lasting. After buying garlic condoms at The Stinking Rose (it’s a garlic restaurant that I want to try next time around — it came highly recommended) and reading amazing works by Bell Hooks at the City Lights bookstore, I was hooked on the charm of the city and just the feeling of being somewhere important. (And this is coming from a D.C. denzien!)

Other vacation highlights? There were quite a few, when I think about it. I’m just too tired to type them right now. 😉 I need to have them in my head for a little while longer before the baggage I’d dropped at the East Coast curb gets shipped back to my conscience.

As far as tangible takeaways from the city, I didn’t end up with any San Fran souvenirs outside of some divine chocolate I’d sampled at Bittersweet Cafe, particularly the Red Fire Bar with ancho and chipotle peppers, cinnamon and dark chocolate. (Or. Gaz. Mmmmm.)

The girl who sold me my stuff said that they’re adding a shopping cart to the Web site and it’s going to be launched shortly. Woo!

But finding a souvenir that lasts or has the city name on it? Not so much. But I had a layover in Pittsburgh and saw a cute, sparkly pink Steelers T-shirt, so I picked that up. Because a girl cannot have enough Steelers wear during football season, can she now?!?!

So my plane lands at National Airport circa 8 a.m. today. I haven’t slept in days and am more loopy than a friggin’ cable-knit sweater, yet I get the Bright Idea to drop something off at work before going home.

Never mind that I hadn’t bathed in 27 hours, but my punch-drunk self throws the car in a parking spot at Ye Humble Employment Establishment and hops out. I noticed I’d left the lights on, so I went to open the door. It was locked, but I had no key. Where was said key? In the ignition.

AND THE CAR WAS RUNNING!

There was a mild ray of light in that I’d left the sunroof partially open, but hard as I tried, I could not get my fat ass through it far enough to reach the steering wheel.

I’m lucky I didn’t dent that damn hood. Tawny Kitaen? I am not.

Oh, the humanity.

So I called AAA for help, and I explained my predicament. Which was all null and void when, afterward, I was asked for my AAA member number (um, it’s in the car) and my driver’s license number (take a wild guess where THAT was, too).

And my wait time? Estimated 90 minutes.

*thunk*

Meanwhile, I work in the land of three-piece suits and I’m all scuzzy and casual and shit. Yet, I dropped off my thing and grabbed a cup of coffee. And within an hour, help came. (Yay.)

Last night while we were all scrambling to go from restaurant to hotel to airport within the space of a half-hour, I’d been fretting about my keys. I kept thinking they were locked in my hotel room that I’d surrendered hours earlier. Seriously, I was nuts over my car keys. And when I located them at the bottom of my carryon, I’d thought the worst was over. Nope — I just hadn’t lost them YET!

My little black cloud had lifted for a couple of days, and I knew to be grateful. I did, in fact, leave my heart in San Francisco. But my cats? Left a half-dozen shit landmines and twice as many skid marks here in Northwest D.C.

Oh well, nothin’ really left to look forward to, but a few moments of dare I say joy to reflect upon. And I’ll just be glad the universe gave me a little bit to keep me going and believing that one day, we’ll (OK, “I’ll” — I know y’all will!) laugh about all of this. …