I returned to San Francisco late Thursday night, checked into the hotel, and slept well. Ordinarily I have trouble sleeping in strange places, but I was so tired and (fortunately) the room was quiet and comfy, I drifted off quickly.
Friday saw me doing more work, going to meetings, and getting a tour from a San Francisco County sheriff’s deputy of risk areas related to my job. We had a great meeting and discussion. I am confident that my friends in San Francisco are well cared for by their emergency planning and response officials.
I had the afternoon “off.” I thought, “hmmm… I am in San Francisco, so what do I do now and where should I go?” I dropped in to visit my friend, Mike. We went down the street and had a cup of coffee (well, me … I had a Coke, since I don’t drink coffee) and then Mike got back to work and I took a walk.
… A long walk. I walked 10 miles, from the Bay at SOMA all the way around the ballpark then across the Embarcadero then down to the piers for tourists, then up a hill (until it got too steep)… then hopped on a trolley and took that back into the Castro. I had a late lunch, then walked back to my hotel. So I really walked … though I have not been walking as much as I should. Gotta keep the weight under control and not disappoint myself by getting lazy.
So what does a gay leatherdude do in San Francisco for a night out on a Friday night? Well, this monogamously-partnered guy who doesn’t fool around behind the back of his partner was met by his cousin (and family) who drove in all the way from San Jose just to see me. We went to a great local seafood restaurant. I returned early and went to bed. I’m just not a night-owl and even though my hotel is right in SOMA, the heart of gay leather San Francisco, I don’t want to go out to a gay bar or other gay-oriented places. Been there, done that…. I guess I really have become an old married fart.
However, there was a spark of “hope” for me — I wore leather jeans and boots for the evening out with my cousin. 🙂
It has been a great visit, but I am very much looking forward to returning home to the arms of my man, to my home, to my long list of chores that have undoubtedly built up, to my senior pals, and to life as is my routine. Maryland My Maryland, the Free State… callin’ me home. Returning as you read this… wish me a safe flight.
Life is short: enjoy the love of family and unexpected surprises, such as a “DC Trolley” (which at one time served the area where I live in Maryland)… rolling down tracks in San Francisco.