Live long, pro$sper and bru$h your teef with a bottle of Jack…
You know, I was thinking I’d skip this year’s Gay Pride festivities. There’s a certain feeling of “been there, done that” – and I certainly have. Plus, this would be my first time attending as a single dude in nearly ten years – a rather stark reminder of how different my life is today than I thought it would be a year ago…
But I read this post on Joe. My. God. Apparently, he re-posts it every year. And it reminded me that I’m lucky to live in San Francisco and that I get to be an openly gay man without worrying about being fired from my job, evicted from my apartment or thrown in the clink because of my sexual orientation.
It’s not always been easy to be gay (you’d think I’d be used to being called “faggot” by random assholes on the street, seeing as I’ve been hearing it for well over thirty years now), but I honestly wouldn’t trade it for anything. And the last Sunday in June is our day – to celebrate, to remember, to look ahead, to pay homage to those who paved the way for the rest of us, to honor ourselves and our brothers and sisters, to drink too much, to get sunburned, to flirt, to laugh, to hang out with friends who are also our family, to revel in our similarities and our differences. And to have a fucking party… See y’all there!
You know, a friend of mine recently said, “Why bother recycling anymore? I’m not the problem.” Yes, it was a joke (sort of) – but I have to agree with her sentiment. All these little things we do don’t seem like they’ll even come close to ameliorating disasters of this magnitude… Sigh – I guess the Maya were right after all – I’d better start to party like it’s 2012.
image from Gizmodo
Hmm… I just realized that my diet for the last two days has consisted almost exclusively of pork… Lunch on Tuesday was tonkatsu, dinner was chile verde… Yesterday I had a carnitas burrito for lunch and a ham-and-brie sandwich for dinner… And breakfast on both days included a couple of rashers of bacon. I suppose I ought to get a salad or something for lunch today – though BBQ pork sandwich from The Sentinel sounds pretty tasty… I’m going to need to buy special shoes for my soon-to-be-cloven hooves…
UPDATE: Lunch today… Another porcine victory.
With all the rain and gross weather over the last month or so, I haven’t been riding my bike – which also means I’ve been skipping my usual after-work visits to Whole Foods on 4th and Harrison. But I’m back in the saddle and back to stopping off for groceries most evenings.
Now let me tell you, I generally like this particular location. Granted, the male staff at the Franklin St. location is typically much hotter looking, but the market itself is cramped and filled with pushy, self-entitled d’bags who won’t get out of my goddamn way. The 4th Street branch is definitely mellower and seems to serve a more diverse group of customers. And the layout, while a bit quirky, is less prone to bottlenecks.
Be that as it may, there’ve been a couple of incidents this week and last. I went last Wednesday evening, looking forward to a little sushi from the sushi bar – just some tekka maki, kappa maki and maybe California roll. But all the boxes were nine piece servings, all of the same variety. Where are the little four or six piece boxes? Hmmm… Annoying. So, I just settled for a tamale and some enchilada from the hot bar – and of course my apples managed to smash through the box on bike ride home, so it was like eating an ax murder (visually that is – it tasted fine. Oh, and I certainly don’t blame Whole Foods for the apple/enchilada mash-up… The perils of shopping by bike…)
At any rate, I returned on Friday, still intent on having sushi – and the same scene replayed. All nine-piece boxes of a single variety. What gives? When I asked the gentleman behind the counter, he indicated, “We’re a new company” with no further explanation as to why they chose to package their sushi in such unworkable quantities. Apparently this company hates us Mary-Ann-Singleton-types and thus only packages their sushi for the happily married rather than sad, cat-owning spinsters such as myself.
Then, last night, knowing I couldn’t get sushi, but not feeling like cooking, I decided I’d just get a sandwich – turkey with roasted peppers and pesto-mayo, my favorite! I went right up to the deli counter (no line – yay!) and was submitting my order when I was advised that they were out of meat. Not out of turkey – they were out of every variety of meat.
I took the liberty of looking up “deli” – it is short for “delicatessen,” an “operation offering foods intended for immediate consumption. The main product line is normally luncheon meats and cheeses.” (emphasis added by me) So, Whole Foods, please hew a little more closely to the definition of deli – providing meat is really key to the deli experience. KTHXBYE.