A slice of life

Saturdays, a time to relax on the couch with friends or family or maybe just a good book or movie. A time to let the stress from the workday slowly leak out of every pore and the serenity of the weekend pour over you. Sounds nice doesn't it? Too bad today was not such a day.

I offered a friend my companionship and services for a quick trip into the city for a very specific purpose, which will be expounded on later. After stumbling out of bed a good 20 ft to the couch I kinda lay on it in a bit of a stupor thinking that I must not have slept well last night. I don't remember being up, maybe I just needed more of it. Within minutes of waking up my closest and deepest friend started to vibrate next to me. Yup, Ms. Sony Erickson. Text message from my other friend asking if I was up and ready to go. (yawn), how about in an hour.

Drove up to her house picked her up, and then up to the city. Drove to the store in question, but still closed from the night before. So change of plan, took a short jaunt to the Ferry building where the weekly farmers market was taking place. Now this is an opportunity to see what San Fran really has to offer. Every walk of life from homeless to wealthy and every eclectic in between. The women with the completely blue hair, which of course begs the question, why die your hair completely blue, is it for the attention and to make a statement, or because it is easier to match with clothes. There were dogs abound throughout the market of all shapes and sizes, and of course their owners who fawned over them as a mother should a child. There was a New Orleans bluegrass band complete with banjo, thin mustache and full goatee with Styrofoam hats. Other performers competed with the booths selling everything from fruits to raw meat. By this point we are both ready for lunch of make simply a lake breakfast. On the recommendation of a different friend I tried a meatloaf sandwich. Now this is not your grandmother’s meatloaf, this was a great hunk of meat. But speaking of meat, it is time to run to our primary errand on this trip.

Retracing our steps back to a local establishment called Good Vibrations. This is not your mother’s Yoga store, this is a store made for women who need a little extra something on the side. Lets face it even the best men can’t always truly satisfy a woman before sleep overcomes our tired and haggard body. Well this story fills that gap. A full store chock filled with female pleasure devices. An observation, this light and airy store is so much different than the male equivalent which is more of a dirty place designed to make you feel ashamed and definitely of a dirty sense. This had a sense of Nordstrom about it, with a friendly and helpful sales staff eager to assist in all manner of questions. A female guest attending by herself was asking the male sales rep about one of the many lubes, and he described it as being the consistency of water but a little more smoothness to it, something that will help when you need a little something before anal (he personally recommended it and says he has a couple of bottles). There was the rubber ducky that looks just like your child’s bath toy, but push the secret button and boy does that head know how to bob. With hands dug deep into my pockets, I watched fascinated by the drama unfolding. Armed with some knowledge my friend and I walked out empty handed, but fear not it has a web site for home private shopping.

On the way home we are discussing the events of the day when I realize my car is handling awfully sluggishly. It is getting worse by the second and even worse now we are hearing a loud noise. Pulling through three lanes of traffic I park in the breakdown lane, jump out and sure enough, flat time. Call in Geico and wait almost an hour for a truck to arrive to help change the tire. Now before you all accuse me of being a completely hopeless yuppie, this is a new car and I have not spent the time finding all the winch points and frankly I pay a lot of money in insurance for just this reason. But now I am pissed. A flat tire on practically new tires. After dropping off my friend I limp for 30 miles on a spare tire at a whopping 50 mph to the dealership to have them check it out. Alas not a problem on their side, a gash on the wall of the tire. Before you rise up to defend my honor and tires from the people of San Fran, the gash was on the inside wall, probably some piece of road debris that slashed through the tire. So I got to spend some extra money getting that tire replaced. What a fun way to spend the afternoon.

Tonight I pack and prepare for my trip to London for work. For updates on that watch this space, as for the random thought for the day. Drive safe and keep both hands on the wheel, you never know when you are going to have to battle your car through traffic.