Winnemucca to SLC

Boy, is Nevada a boring state to drive across. I’d forgotten just how monotonous it actually is. The scenery is really interesting for the first fifteen minutes. And then it never changes. Fortunately the speed limit’s 75, and there are some interesting towns to drive through if you leave the freeway.

 

Winnemucca was as exciting as ever. Lunch in Battle Mountain was a joy; imagine eating at McDonald’s not because you want to or because you’re trying to save money, but because THERE’S NOTHING ELSE THERE!

All this scenery and solitude and flat-out boredom gave me time to ponder many of my life’s mysteries and challenges, but discussion of that will have to wait.

As if to serve as a warning about the repression inherent to Utah, the speed limit inexplicably drops to 55 at the state line, and continues at this glacial pace for about ten miles of nonexistent road construction. A mild gas trauma greeted me as I hit Salt Lake City; I’ve never seen any city with so few gas stations on the outskirts. I was near panic, but I survived.

  

Once in the city, though, and once settled at Eric’s place, I began feeling more comfortable with the surroundings. This was a pretty big relief, as this was the first of many nights to come sleeping in the home of someone I’ve never met. Points to Eric for pulling off a potentially uncomfortable scenario and making me feel right at home.

Dinner at Bill and Nada’s Diner — a truly wonderful place with chicken-fried steak, chocolate cream pie and individual juke boxes at each table — was followed by a tour of neon Salt Lake by night and a couple of beers at the Deer Hunter, where disco never died.

Getting Started

Bags packed. Laptop configured. Email answered. Winnemucca tonight!

Monday was laundry day, which was a more daunting task than one might imagine. Afterward, there was another last minute Target run with Sarah, at which point she provided me with a really cool book for the trip (review forthcoming).

The rest of the day was spent making road tapes, packing, moving things around the house, asking myself what the hell I’m doing, etc. Fortunately, Nick at Nite provided a sanity break in the form of a “Green Acres” marathon.

It all starts this morning.

 

Left home a little later than planned (surprise…) and decided that it would be worth an extra two hours tomorrow to just stay the night in Reno. The choice was thus: $40 for a room in Winnemucca, where it’s boring and the sights take ten minutes to see, or $25 for a room in Reno, where there are cheap buffets, sleazy motels, and even queer bars. Hmmm…some choice…

Lunch at the Chick-fil-A is Farifield was a good thing. However, I think I first started getting excited about the trip when I passed Sacramento and the scenery stopped being so familiar. I really started getting excited around Truckee, where it stopped being insufferably hot.

I think I like Reno better than Vegas; it seems less slick and processed. The grittiness adds a certain charm which Vegas is lacking. And everything is on a slightly smaller scale. The casino strip is not nearly so exciting, but then again, it’s also not nearly so oppressive.

So now I’m comfortably settled into the Motel 6 on Wells Avenue. It has its own Denny’s. Alas, I missed “Roseanne”, so I think I’ll take a crap now and find food…

****

Good crap, passable food. Love those $6.49 bloat buffets. I sampled Fitzgerald’s. The food and service were not upto Vegas standards, but it worked.

 

A few observations on Reno:

  • It’s a much better spot for a carless vacation than Vegas. Everything is pretty much concentrated around the intersection of 4th and Virginia. There are even queer bars within walking distance.
  • On the Tuesday after Labor Day, the average age of everyone in Reno seems to be about 70. Everyone smokes. I wonder how many of these characters are locals.
  • It’s really dark here once you leave the strip.
  • It rained here most of the evening. I didn’t think it rained anywhere west of the Rockies this time of year.
  • Why I’m sitting here watching “Moesha” and “In the House” just like I was in SF I don’t know. Could be the lack of sleep last night. I’m beat.

The Reno bar tour proved pretty uneventful, most likely due once again to the fact that it was the Tuesday after Labor Day. I limited my drinking to The Quest on Commercial Row, but I also drove by the empty parking lots at 1099, Visions, the Five Star, and Bad Dolly’s. I wasn’t inspired.

Preparations

Three days and counting. I’d get more excited if I could get rid of this cold I seem to have picked up somewhere. Actually, it’s a little better now, but I’ve been sounding a little like Brenda Vaccaro all day.

Anyhow, Friday brought good news and jumper cables. I needed both as it’s been a long week and I’m not convinced that AAA will instantly remedy any roadside traumas I may experience.

 

So there was the obligatory trip to Target for trip supplies. Mark came along and over burritos at Pancho Villa offered me the use of a spare PowerBook for the trip. This made me most happy. This will also, in his words, “guarantee that we get updates”. Cool.

There was an inordinate fascination with the shopping cart lift at Target and with the warm and fuzzy T-shirts contained therein. I was unable to find a suitable travel alarm, but I settled for Cocoa Pebbles on sale. We made it safely back into the City before Critical mass hit.

 

Saturday and Sunday are devoted to laundry and cleaning up and yet more errands and printing cards and gathering maps, and…

There will be no rest this weekend.

The Itinerary

The itinerary describes the trip as it actually occurred, and includes all changes made on the road, including the elimination of Phoenix, San Diego, and Fresno. But here’s the original, if you’re that curious…

Tuesday 2 September (Reno):

  • Route: Leave San Francisco on I-80 eastbound through Sacramento to Reno.
  • Accommodations: Motel.
  • Goals: Finding the cool dyke I met while she was working at Subway in Winnemucca five years ago, and comparing Reno’s cheap buffets to those in Vegas.

Wednesday 3 September (Salt Lake City):

  • Route: Continue on I-80 to Salt Lake City (two nights).
  • Accommodations: Coutesy of Eric.
  • Goals: Obtaining an Osmonds lunchbox. Maybe a T-shirt too…
  • Obscure TV Reference: Donny and Marie.

Friday 5 September (Denver):

  • Route: Continue on I-80 through Cheyenne, switching to I-25, headed for Denver (one night).
  • Accommodations: Motel.
  • Goal: Not running out of gas between SLC and Cheyenne.
  • Obscure TV Reference: Dynasty.

Saturday 6 September (Kansas City):

  • Route: I-80 to Kansas City (two nights).
  • Accommodations: I’ve been offered lodging by Bernie and dinner with Gary.
  • Goals: Managing to get through the whole visit with no references to Dorothy or “The Wizard of Oz”, and visiting Country Club Plaza, which was more or less the first suburban shopping center in America.
  • Obscure TV Reference: Lots of Cops episodes, Mama’s Family.

Monday 8 September (St. Louis):

  • Route: East on I-70/US40 to St. Louis (one night).
  • Accommodations: Motel.
  • Goals: Never spent any time here. It intrigues me. I want to check out a few Route 66 landmarks, like Ted Drewe’s Frozen Custard. If memory serves correctly, this is also the first place I get to eat White Castle Burgers.

Tuesday 9 September (Madison):

  • Route: I-55 (old Route 66) north to Peoria, I-39 north to Madison (two nights)
  • Accommodations: Chez Steven.
  • Goals: Last time I drove through Madison, all I did was buy a Coke and a Kit-Kat bar. I plan to eat better this time. A side trip to Milwaukee is very likely at this point in the trip.
  • Obscure TV Reference: Happy Days, Laverne and Shirley

Thursday 11 September (Chicago):

  • Route: I-94 east to Chicago (two nights)
  • Accommodations: Staying with Joseph. Visiting Curt.
  • Goals: My last trip to Chicago didn’t do it justice. Buildings…the el…White Castle…the South Side…Big Chicks (the bar)…
  • Obscure TV Reference: Good Times, Bob Newhart

Saturday 13 September (Indianapolis):

  • Route: South on I-55/Route 66 to Peoria and west on I-74 to Indianapolis (three nights).
  • Accommodations: Here I visit Bob, to whom I am eternally indebted for suggesting the trip in the first place.
  • Goal: Rumor has it Indianapolis is a roadside archtecture mecca, with a smattering of interesting historic districts as well.
  • Obscure TV Reference: One Day at a Time

Tuesday 16 September (Detroit):

  • Route: Switch north on I-69 (I’m excited about this particular highway) through Fort Wayne to I-94 and Detroit (two nights).
  • Accommodations: Motel.
  • Goal: I really want to see this place; my friend Rae (a native) loves it, plus I just have this fetish for urban decay. Auto-culture exhibits at the Henry Ford Museum. A WOWO bumper sticker and T-shirt.

Thursday 18 September (Pittsburgh):

  • Route: South on I-94 to Toledo, east on I-90 to Cleveland and west on I-76 to Pittsburgh (one night).
  • Accommodations: A last minute offer from David (I LOVE people named David) has resulted in accommodations and a Mac here.
  • Goal: I’ve known an awful lot of people from Pittsburgh over the years. Hopefully it will not be obvious why they left.
  • Obscure TV Reference: Mister Rogers Neighborhood

Saturday 20 September (Baltimore):

  • Route: East on I-70 (veering onto US 40, the old National Road) to Charles Town and Harpers Ferry. Then on to Baltimore (two nights).
  • Accommodations: Risa, the only high school friend with whom I still communicate is here.
  • Goal: Cruising the Giant Foods near Johns Hopkins, recapturing my childhood and photographing motels in Charles Town and Harper’s Ferry. And I love Baltimore. There may be a side trip to Washington and/or Wilmington.
  • Obscure TV Reference: Homicide: Life on the Street

Monday 22 September (Greensboro):

  • Route: South on I-95 through Washington to Richmond. West in I-64 to Norfolk to visit Taylor, and then onto Greensboro via US 58 and I-85.
  • Accommodations: Mom and Dad. Plus I get to hang out with Jeff and Adam and Daniel and Taylor.
  • Goal: Very much rest. Very little driving. Babylon, Waffle House, K&W, Libby Hill. Cruising UNCG. Side trips to Myrtle Beach, Reidsville, and hopefully the North Carolina State Fair in Raleigh.
  • Obscure TV Reference: The Andy Griffith Show.

Tuesday 30 September (Charlotte):

  • Route: South on I-85 to Charlotte.
  • Accommodations: Duncan.
  • Goal: Gus’ Sir Beef, my first Krystal burger.
  • Obscure TV Reference: The PTL Club.

Tuesday 30 September (Atlanta):

  • Route: South on I-85 to Atlanta (one night).
  • Accommodations: Tony.
  • Goal: Krystal Burgers, Krispy Kreme Doughnuts, and Little Five Points call.
  • Obscure TV Reference: Matlock, Gone with the Wind (OK…it’s not a TV show, but I couldn’t skip it…)

Thursday 2 October (Memphis):

  • Route: West on I-20 to Birmingham, north on US 78 through Tupelo (the Elvis birthplace) to Memphis (one night).
  • Accommodations: Motel.
  • Goal: Graceland? Beale Street? The National Civil Rights Museum?
  • Obscure TV Reference: In the Heat of the Night (Mississppi leg only…)

Friday 3 October (Oklahoma City):

  • Route: West on I-40 (detouring onto Route 66) to Oklahoma City (two nights).
  • Accommodations: Motel.
  • Goal: Many many Route 66 sights. The seduction of a member of Oral Roberts’ family.

Saturday 4 October (Amarillo):

  • Route: West on I-40 (more Route 66 detours) to Amarillo (one night).
  • Accommodations: Motel.
  • Goal: Cadillac Ranch.

Sunday 5 October (Gallup):

  • Route: West on I-40 (with yet more Route 66 detours) through Albuquerque to Gallup.
  • Accommodations: Motel.
  • Goal: The hidden cities of Route 66.

Monday 6 October (Kingman):

  • Route: West on I-40, through Holbrook (home of the Wigwam Village Motel) and Flagstaff, to Kingman (one night).
  • Accommodations: Motel.
  • Goal: More hidden cities of Route 66.
  • Obscure TV Reference: Route 66.

Tuesday 7 October (Bakersfield):

  • Route: West on I-40/Route 66 through Barstow and Needles to Bakersfield.
  • Accommodations: Motel.
  • Goal: Making it through the desert without a dead grandma in the back of the truck (per Steinbeck).

Then back to San Francisco, where by this time I will most likely be homeless. OK…just kidding…

Planet SOMA US Tour 1997

8800 miles. 29 states. 2 countries. 5 weeks. This was some trip!

On 2 September 1997, yer humble host leaves on a very long journey around the country. The object is to see the USA, via the old roads as much as possible, and to meet interesting people. Accommodations will be provided in large part by Planet SOMA readers and other friends. Updates will be transmitted from the road.  You’re invited along for the ride, but be forewarned: I break for drive-ins, sleazy motels, cute boys, etc…

So what the hell am I thinking? With minimal cash on hand, I’m embarking on a 7500-mile trip around the country alone. I’ll be gone for five weeks. I’ll be spending a good third of the trip staying in the homes of people I’ve never met face to face. For at least six or seven nights I’ll be lurking about completely alone in cheap motels hundreds, even thousands of miles from home.

This trip is something I’ve been contemplating for a long time. I was pretty damned amazed that a lot of Planet SOMA readers liked the idea well enough to offer couch space and bathroom privileges, as well as guided tours and more.

Why are you doing this?

Well, I guess it’s just because that’s what I do. Over the last few years, I’ve learned that the times I’m happiest are when I’m completely alone, driving down a highway I’ve never traveled before, en route to a relatively unfamiliar destination. It’s such a great sensation, seeing things I’ve never seen before, as well as new versions of things I’ve seen a million times before. The completely banal becomes exciting.

Aren’t you apprehensive about your living quarters?

I’m not worried about the prospect of staying with strangers, and I hope they’re not worried about the prospect of me in their homes. In fact, calling many of my hosts “strangers” is pretty inaccurate anyway. Thanks to e-mail, I’ve formed alliances with people all over the country — and the world. Surely there’s a considerably stronger bond here than with someone I might invite into my home after meeting up in a bar on Folsom Street.

Will you be giving updates on Planet SOMA?

I sure hope so. The level of detail will depend on my computer access as I travel, as well as on how much time I have. At a minimum I plan to put up simple text updates as often as I can. The pictures may have to wait until I get back because (a) I don’t want to spend the whole trip editing them and (b) not everyone can accomplish video captures easily.

That said, the simple answer is “yes…there will be updates from the road”.

Can I still join the fun?

No. I don’t want to meet anyone else.

OK…I’m kidding. I’m still itching to meet more people around the country. Take this as a hint, if you will, but Detroit and Oklahoma City are the two big spots where a friendly face would be appreciated. But there’s still time to meet up if you live somewhere else too. Mail me (before Labor Day would be nice). We’ll talk.

Thanks again to everyone who has expressed support and interest in the trip. It’s gonna be fun.

Reflections on the Central Valley

The major highways through Sacramento are I-5 and I-80, which more or less replaced US highways 40, 50, and 99. Highway 99 is a roadside architecture paradise, running through Lodi and Stockton as well as Fresno and Bakersfield. Highway 50 leads to the Sierra and passes through historic Placerville.

 

Lodi

Lodi is a small central valley agricultural town about ten miles north of Stockton. Cherokee Boulevard is the old route of Highway 99 through town, and there are some roadside gems to be seen. The Safeway below, alas, has been remodeled by its new owner.

  

Stockton

Stockton’s an interesting place. For the roadside effect, check out Wilson Way (old Highway 99). Wilson Way and its environs are also a good area for thrift stores, including Thrift Outlet (East Harding Way near Wilson Way) and Thrift Center (Wilson Way near Harding Way).

University of the Pacific is a good boy-watching spot on Pacific Avenue. There is a gay bar, Paradise (10100 Lower Sacramento Road), but I’ve never been brave enough to check it out.

Another interesting sight is the twin malls on Pacific Avenue. In most cities with two malls, they’re on opposite ends of town. Not in Stockton. Two unrelated malls were constructed next door to each other. There are even a couple of stores with branches in each. Strange…

 

Sacramento Still

Woke up early Sunday morning and called Mom to wish her a happy Mother’s Day. Then, in her absence, I proceeded to wolf down a breakfast big enough for both of us at the Pancake Circus on Broadway. Eggs, chicken-fried steak and four monster pancakes from hell for only $4.99. I avoided the line by sitting at the counter, which is what I usually do even when there’s no line. The coffee refills come quicker at the counter.

A quick cruise through the Tower District and North Sacramento:

Centered around the renovated Tower Theater on Broadway, the Tower District was also home to the very first Tower Records location. There’s also the Tower Cafe, Tower Liquors, and more. Worth a look. Do not miss breakfast at the Pancake Circus a few blocks north.

Del Pason Boulevard in North Sacramento is an excellent 1940’s suburban strip with cheap restaurants, a couple of old theaters and a classic ice skating rink. There’s also a growing art community here.

Then I got on the road for Placerville for some strange reason. I took the old route of Highway 50 (big surprise, right?) through Folsom, got the oil changed by a most attractive lad at Wal-Mart, and then slammed on the air conditioner again. The altitude adjustment was not lessening the heat in any discernible way.

Placerville proved pretty uneventful, although it’s quite pretty. The three used bookstores yielded nothing, and I was not in any sort of “antiquing” mood, so I headed back toward Sacramento. By this time, the temperature was 96, I was dehydrated, and I wanted nothing so much as fog and cool air, so I came home.

For approximately the fifteenth time, I didn’t stop at the Milk Farm in Dixon on the way back. Someday soon, I promise. The Mother’s Day traffic was from hell, and got so bad by the time I hit Berkeley that I actually got off the freeway and cut through Oakland to save time. Unless you live here, you don’t quite grasp the irony of that statement.

Once back in the city, it was off to “beer and a blowjob for $1.50” night at My Place, followed by a late-night adventure in the East Bay with my roommate which was even less exciting than the Sacramento trip and thus bears no mention here.

Sacramento

“Isn’t Sacramento the place where “Eight Is Enough” was set”?”

Well, yeah…but there’s other stuff there too. I have to admit that I really like Sacramento. It’s where I go when I need a little perspective after spending too much time in the loony bin which is San Francisco — kind of an adopted home town. Actually, it reminds me a lot of North Carolina. Tree-lined streets, houses with yards, queer bars that look like steak houses, etc. And the abundance of roadside architecture, especially in West Sacramento, is truly amazing. Sacramento is also a thrift store mecca.

To start, I must admit that I really love Sacramento, It’s a very comforting place — mainly, I guess, because it reminds me so much of the towns I knew in North Carolina: tree-lined streets, houses with yards and driveways, strip shopping centers, etc. Strangely enough, I actually even had sex with a charming couple in their trailer here a few years ago. It was a first time for me, despite my upbringing in the motherland of trailer parks.

On my last overnight trip here, I met a very cute boy who liked jazz and be-bop and we spent the night making love to the likes of Ella Fitzgerald. As I drove home the next day, I discovered that Ella had died that very same night. I was almost as depressed by her death as I was when I learned how much my host paid for his apartment. I’d sort of hoped we might run into each other by accident. We’d lost touch during the past year (OK…we’d never again talked after “the fact”…). Didn’t happen. Oh well…

I got up Saturday morning and decided to hit my adopted California hometown after the obligatory “Animaniacs” and “Pinky and the Brain”. I had a fairly late start, but it allowed me time to hit the Chick-fil-A in Farifield (the only one in the Bay Area). I also made it into Sacramento in time to obtain my traditional room at the Motel 6 and hit a few of my favorite thrift stores.

And damn, was it hot there; by 8PM, it was still 82 out. I had strange flashbacks to summer Saturday nights back home, sitting on the patio as the sun went down. I drove through the subdivisions and saw the families cooking out and socializing and I realized that growing up here was probably not unlike growing up where I did. I never get this feeling in the city. Maybe the difference is what attracted me to San Francisco…

Not much luck at the thrift stores, so I visited motel hell in West Sacramento.

Originally, two major cross-country highways, U.S.40 and U.S.50 met in Sacramento before dividing and reconverging in San Francisco. U.S.40 now ends somewhere in Nevada, replaced by I-80. U.S.50 now has its terminus in West Sacramento, its western leg having been replaced primarily by I-580. The old routes through Sacramento can still be traveled (Auburn Blvd. and West Capitol Ave. for U.S.40 and Folsom Blvd. and Stockton Blvd. for U.S.50).

 

West Capitol Avenue in West Sacramento is a virtual mecca of 1940’s and 50’s motel architecture. This area has a long-standing reputation as a “wide open” town with a tolerant attitude toward prostitution and other “vices”. West Sacramento and nearby Bryte were home to most of the area gay clubs in the late 60’s and early 70’s, when law enforcement in the central city forced them out.

  

I drove around the capitol building, and watched the prom kids posing for pictures and getting out of limousines on every corner. Dinner at Wienerschnitzel on Broadway (just because I could…).

Back to the Motel 6, where I stared at the lipstick on the bathroom wall and the burn marks from someone’s travel iron. This was not a showcase suite, despite the fact that this location got a “banner” in the new directory. I took a shower. It was painful. I watched a little TV, which was even more painful.

Then off to the nightlife, such as it was. The Wreck Room was not as much fun as usual, although I did meet a very interesting “healer” who bought me a beer and offered to come back to my room and “realign my spine and relax me…no strings attached”. I declined. I also visited the Mercantile (creepy as ever) and the new location of the Bolt ($3.25 for a Rolling Rock in a very unspectacular bar…gimme a break…). I was horrified to find a flyer for Colossus in San Francisco on my car after parking near Faces. By last call, I was back at the Wreck. Fortunately, since bar-hopping in Sacramento involves a lot of driving, I never had time to get drunk.

After last call, I decided to see if the river access at 10th and Vine was as cruisy by night as it was in the daytime. The traffic jam I found when I got there convinced me my instincts were correct. Not may takers, though. There was a Metallica marathon on the radio station, and for some reason this is not most fags’ idea of “appropriate cruising music”. Everyone looked at me a bit warily. I did meet one guy, but he seemed a bit too concerned with my car and occupation, as well as with stressing that he’d run a marathon this morning and worked out in the afternoon. He seemed miffed that I didn’t care.

Home to bed…alone… Slept with the air conditioner on. Big mistake.

Back to SF

 

Lots of sleep followed by Saturday morning cartoons, and I was off. This was the uneventful part of the trip, where I covered more familiar territory. I did see beautiful downtown San Luis Obispo as well as a really cool original A&W Drive-In in Paso Robles.

As luck would have it, traffic jams on every freeway slowed my approach to San Francisco and (once again) dampened my enthusiasm about the return. All in all, though, a great trip. Perspective will follow soon in the inevitable postmortem.

Thanks for coming along!

The Long Way Home

The trip home led me on the most convoluted route so far (on purpose, of course…). The original plan was to drive south to Kingman, Arizona and cross the desert on old Route 66, but this proved to be too much of a drive. I settled for hitting the “mother road” back at Barstow by way of Zzyzx Road and I-15. From there, I headed south through Victorville and across Cajon Pass to San Bernadino (site of the very first McDonald’s).

  

Route 66 runs across Foothill Boulevard, Alosta Avenue, and Huntington Drive as it winds its way through the “Inland Empire” toward Los Angeles. Unfortunately, a lot of what was once there has been replaced by strip mall nightmares, especially around Fontana and Cucamonga. There are still sights to be seen, however, including one of the original Wigwam Village Motels in Rialto.

In Rancho Cucamonga, a small sign caught my eye, directing me to the Route 66 Visitors Center (7965 Vineyard Avenue, off Foothill Blvd.), a museum and gift shop devoted to the road. Great place, and I spent a good half hour there poking around and talking to the “greeter”.

  

The next stop was LeRoy’s Restaurant in Monrovia. It’s been there since Route 66 was still the main highway, and still does a brisk local business. friendly, homey kind of place, with a counter (where I sat) and yet more waitresses who called me “honey” without fearing I might sue them for sexual harassment.

 

The drive through the north section of Los Angeles was daunting, but the scenery was good. It’s hard to trace a few original portions of the route, due to freeway construction. The alignment I followed was Mission Drive to Cesar Chavez Blvd. to Sunset Blvd. to Santa Monica Blvd. At this point, I left Route 66 for old Highway 101 (Ventura Blvd.) headed north. Eventually, I had to hit the freeway at the early end of rush hour. I was making better time on the surface road…

Before long, I was in the thrift store mecca of Ventura, also the headquarters site for Kinko’s. I’d spent time there before and didn’t feel the need to give it more than a half hour of my time.

Next stop was Santa Barbara, where I’d originally planned to stop for the night. I can’t adequately describe how much I hated this town. The place is nauseatingly cutesy and precious and white. There were no malls, except for a downtown which very much resembles one. The whole town was completely sanitized and reminiscent of Marin County. Nothing could have made me spend a night here.

Thus I continued on to San Luis Obispo, home of the Hearst Castle, the Madonna Inn, and Cal Poly. Definitely a little higher on the reality scale than Santa Barbara, although this was a most obvious college town. Since it was almost 10PM, and I’d been driving since 7AM, a stop was in order.

A beer or two was also in order, so I headed to the local queer bar, Breeze’s (11560 Los Osos Valley Road). Nice place, fairly generic music, and a couple of cute boys. I didn’t meet my first obsession. If anyone knows him, tell him to get in touch. I’m guessing age 25 or so, medium height and build, goatee, curly dark hair, and he won a T-shirt for knowing that ABC denied a lesbian cruise line the opportunity to advertise on “Ellen”. He drives a red car. I crave him.

I did, however, meet an off-duty DJ and fellow Mac supremacist named Glenn. He seemed a good person to pass last call with while sitting outside. I sat outside a lot; a city ordinance prohibits smoking inside bars in San Luis Obispo. I could never live there…