Road Trip: Part 2

We left at Day 3, so let's begin there.

Day 3: San Francisco

I awoke (as I described) in San Francisco, which I hadn't done before. Get up, shower, have a cup of coffee, and off to wander the streets.

The streets of San Francisco are different from other streets. They have restaurants and businesses and neat little shops. And then the next street over, instead of having row houses, also has restaurants and businesses and shops. To a Pittsburgher this was an alien configuration.

We were staying on the border of Chinatown, so naturally that's where we went first, stopping to touristly photograph all the buildings what don't look like ones we have here.

Then we made it to the bay. More coffee, a sourdough baguette, and a bit of Odis Redding on the dock of the bay, while a fat white seagull perched beside us and glared. I told Kat that I had blogged about paying $15 to cross the bridge, and she said, "No, you paid $6 and got $15 dollars change." "How is that possible?" "You gave them 21." "Oh."

We walked along the Embarcadero, intending to meet a friend of Kat's at Pier 39 and have some lunch. As we sat on another dock of the bay with another set of seagulls I started thinking about the number one googolplex, which is one followed by a googol of zeros.

A googol looks like this: 10,​000,000,000,​000,000,000,​000,000,000,​000,000,000,​ 000,000,000,​000,000,000,​000,000,000,​000,000,000,​000,000,000,​ 000,000,000,​000,000,000.

What would a googolplex look like? I started thinking that if you wrote it out it would cover the entire surface of the earth. So then I thought of a planet which an advanced civilization had dedicated entirely to writing out one googolplex. 1, 000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000....etc forever across everything. Why the hell would they do this? I thought. Well, I replied, the planet was in fact a museum: Each number represented one life. Contained within each number is the story of one being who lived somewhere during the long history of the universe.

Now Carl Sagan informs me there is a problem: There isn't enough space in the universe to write out the number one googolplex. Oh well.

After that we were at Pier 39 with touristy seafood restaurants and docks filled up with sealions, all fat and barking and stinking. That was where Kat's friend Misty met us. Misty is from Tennessee; she was staying in LA with April. All of Kat's friends are named after external conditions, and I regretted not spending time with January, Seven O'Clock, and It's Not The Heat It's The Humidity. We went to a restaurant called The Sea Lion and, having decided to eat seafood during our trip, I devoured an entire marine ecosystem.

"San Francisco, San Francisco." Evening: And it was time for some hipstertourism. The attendant in the Beat Museum asked me, "Which of the beats have you read?" Drunk but honest I said "All of them," because I couldn't think of a single writer of the period I wasn't familiar with. He looked at me skeptically. "Who wrote Revenge of the Lawn?" I asked, because I'd forgotten (& lost the copy I owned). He told me, and said "You can find him by Bukowski. Do you like Bukowski?" I told him, "Yes, I like Bukowski, but I hate admitting this, because I hate people who are like 'Duuude have you read BuKOWski!!!!!!'" He laughed and tried to sell me some Bukowski by implying that I hadn't read his novels. I haven't and don't plan to. I bought* a copy of Atrocity Exhibition and a Brautigan collection and we left.

* Actually, I left my money at the hostel. Kat bought me the books but I paid in promises.

City Lights bookstore is right around the corner from the Beat Museum (also, a block away from our hostel, which was cool and unintentional). We wandered about. I had already spent enough of Kat's money on books but I really wanted to spend more. I jumped about and nerdgasmed and had her drag me out -- To Vesuvio's, which is a bar next door whose claim to fame is Jack Kerouac Liked To Get Drunk There. There was Kerouac memorabilia all over the place. I peed myself with happy. We had a drink. I wanted more. "I have four dollars," Kat said to me. "I'll have a Budweiser!" I said to the Bartender.

I drank it.