A Night in the Castro

I honestly have not hung out in the Castro since I was...20? Maybe 21. The last time I was there I got so shitfaced drunk that I took a cab home and ended making my cousin pay for it. Sorry girl. To tell you the honest truth, I think I was slipped some sort of rufie that still allowed me to function. I vaguely remember a man trying to hit on me and he told me he was a coke dealer. Chyeah, super sketch. Do I remember? Of course not. Anyway, let's just make the long story short and say that that entire experience made me stay away from the Castro and much more wary about how much I drink in public and who I'm drinking with.

It was Ryan's birthday. Yes, the same cousin Ryan who sent me the inappropriate picture of the 'Hand Job Nail Spa'. Right when we parked in the neighborhood and turned the corner, there it was. In all of its glory the big red banner held high above the store read 'HAND JOB'. Only in the Castro can a business survive with a name like that. I had to make Ryan stop in his path so that I could laugh for a good second. I had no idea that he had taken the photo in the Castro...it all makes sense.

What I love about the Castro is that the drinks are dirt cheap and the bars are all really close to each other. If you aren't feeling the crowd at one bar, there's another one a couple stores down filled with just as many gay-loving people as the next. It's awesome. Everyone there is ridiculously nice to me. Granted, I am cute...and somehow I always turn out to be a faghag. What can I say? The gays love me. I mean, it just wouldn't be fair to be gay and not have a good looking girlfriend by your side. That would mean that the world is working against you.

After my two drinks (two for one well-drinks: $3), Ryan and I made our way to get some dinner at Thai House Express. We were debating if we should buy a bottle of white wine to drink our sorrows away and celebrate Ryan's birthday, but we figure we had a long night ahead of us...it was only 5:30. How pathetic. We were already buzzed, eating dinner, and thinking about how we would fail miserably to get throughout the night in a functional manner. We ordered the Beef Jerky, vegetable dish and cashew chicken. All pretty standard dishes to order at any hole-in-the-wall Asian joint. It was really good though. Great drunk food at that. The beef jerky came with this hot chili sauce that put my mouth of fire for a good 30 seconds after each bite. Nonetheless, it was definitely worth having my half of the dish. We both ended up just getting a glass of pinot grigio each. We needed something to cool our drunk asses down, but not completely take away our buzz. Dinner was cheap, $41 in total. Happy birthday, RYAN!

Now this is probably the point in my night where everything started to get a little more exciting. We drove out to have some drinks at Martuni's. I only had one drink at this place but it was really good: Raspberry Martini. They also had other fruit-inspired martini's that were creatively put together. If I would have known that they put watermelon wedges on their watermelon martini, I definitely would have ordered that instead. I really just wanted to rekindle some old flames with my old favorite that pretty much doesn't exist anymore: Ferrari Martini. This place is definitely legit though. Martuni was crackin' with a very wide range of people. Live Music. Good Drinks. Good people. How much more can you ask? I told one of the guys the story that my mom thinks I work at an Asian cafe, and let's just say that ended up biting me back on the ass. He kept using it against me saying that, "You shouldn't worry about how much or what you drink. You don't have morals. You work at an Asian cafe, remember?"

Alright gay guy, simmer down. Stop gettin' sassy with me.

Then, I got hungry. I decided to be brave and go to Zeitgeist right down the street to get something to eat. I knew that everyone else was having a good time, so I went by myself. I used to love this place...until this night. I've heard things before that the folks who work in the kitchen are sexist towards men. Well, let me add to that list. They're slightly racist too. I was standing in line reading the menu and it was shit loud in the joint. By the time I was ready to order the guy put out a sign right in front of my face saying that it was my fault that the kitchen isn't closing yet EVEN though the signwas just put out. WTF? C'mon guy. Drop the ego real fast, and stop trying to play God because you're feeding me. Mind you, I'm technically feeding you because my business pays your fuckin' bills. Why you gotta be so rude? He basically told me that if I stiff him on the tip he'll never serve me again. No problemo, asshole. I'm not coming back. The burger was worth it. Right after I ordered my burger some girl behind me asked if I could order her Gardenburger so that she doesn't get yelled at, too. I figured I may as well spare someone else the emotional damage that this guy can cause and help her out. We were standing while we were waiting for our orders and she asked if I'd like to join them. So, I did. I mean, I was by myself. I stood out like a soar thumb because I was dressed in a short dress, boots and I am colored...damn, that seems to be a common theme nowadays for me. Wendy was a nice gal. She was totally a Wendy...more like Dave Thomas' grown-up Wendy. She was a white girl with short, red, curly hair. We were talkin' shit for a good while about how much of assholes the people who work at Zeitgeist are. Turns out she's a pretty smart chick who's in nursing school and was celebrating some sort of academic achievement with her colleagues. She was originally from some state in the midwest. I asked her, "So, why do you like San Francisco so much to have left your entire familiy?"

"Because I'm a lesbian."

**AWKWARD**

I chew down the last few bits of my burger, shake her hand, and wish her well. She was a sweet gal and everything, but I was drunk and who knows what kinds of irresponsible actions I can participate in. I can't even handle the boys, so what makes me think I can continue to string this woman on.

I leave. Good bye, Zeitgeist. I think I'll find another dive bar to go to and spend my money. Yes, it's awesome to be able to bring my bicycle right on in with me and have a beer on your back patio, but don't treat me like shit. The guys that work there were almost as big of assholes as the guys who run Top Dog in Berkeley. Except, at Top Dog you can actually see them make your food. So, the guy at Zeitgeist could have thrown my burger patty on the ground, picked ot up and served it to me without even knowing.

I head back to Martuni's to meet with the group. I really don't know what it is about hanging out with gay guys, but damn it's always a good time. One of them started doing cartwheels on the sidewalk as we were walking up on Market towards the Castro and literally tore a 12 inch hole down the middle of his right pantleg. I guess his cartwheels were too fabulous to be contained in his pantalones. So, one of the other faghags in the group stopped at a corner store to buy an entire box of safety pins to put it back together. And what does this boy do? He gets bold and does another cartwheel to ONLY rip an even bigger hole on the same pantleg. Ugh, pop a cherry once, you only crave to do it again.

What I loved most about this group is that the language was extra vulgar and the women referred to the gay men as other women. I used to be extremely adament about getting people's preferred pronouns right, but this particulary lady was just calling everybody 'she'. Example:

"Did you hear Jerry is with Adam right now?"

"Yeah, that bitch would. She's totally dickwhooped right now."

Hahah, everyone was a she. I loved it. The other faghag threatened that she would tear a bitch up if another faghag were to try to infiltrate the group. Yes, this was a real conversation. And, I completely felt like an outsider. It was awesome. All of these folks work/worked at Starbucks together. An entirely different side of the service industry. It was just really funny to observe how one group of friends interact with each other. I'm sure the dynamics of their relationships with one another was extremely different because of their identities. It was really great to just hang out with people who are half-in and half-out the hospitality industry. I think Starbucks functions like a restaurant on crack. They're a little more straight forward with their services. Gimme yo money, leave your change in my tip bucket, get yo coffee and get the fuck out.

I say it was a successful night because I made it out alive. I was able to drive myself home and make it to work the next day. My cousin on the other hand...let's just say he may have stayed behind at the 'Hand Job'...minus the female Asian cafe workers...sub 21 year old white boy.