sunday is supposed to be a day of rest. yeah right fuckthatshit i'm going out. espescially since yesterday was "game day" and everyidiot in this town was playing beer pong on their front lawns while the police stood buy and "directed traffic". these idiots can "get wasted" in public but i cant smoke a little weed in my own house? this is bullshit. usually i get the fuck out of here or i don't leave my house, but i woke up feeling like a giant coughing yeast infection so i needed to get drugs. i think the most pathetic part was the 50 year-old dads getting drunk on frat lawns. you graduated 30 years ago. its over. go home to your wives you pieces of shit. i can't fucking wait to move.

so now it is sunday. ive been in all day so far but Mamma said i needed a bike. i call the number. what time do you "close"? the woman laughs and says whenever the entertainment stops. its 5 oclock? fuckit. wheres the F at? i make it to 21st and san carlos. they are still there. after a a few test rides and some hearty conversation with Francisco, i find my bike. i find the most amazing pizza ever made and eat it in the curb. i know Ash Reiter is playing a show around the corner at some bar, but America is threatened by young people drinking so I don't know if I will get in. fuckit. im here i might as well try. i go to Valencia, one of the more beautiful streets i think. park my bike (cuz i have a bike now) and proceed to light the first cigarette of the night. how ya feelin' tonight? oh god. of course. how do i always end up next to these sleazy jazz musicians with hats and pony tails? its like, unavoidable. whatever, maybe if i walk in with him no one will notice that i'm not 21. it worked. im in and right before they start charging people. these "men" are supposed to be almost 30 and i feel like im talking to a drunk 14-year-old. he finally leaves because he was hungry. wow. i somehow end up in the back of this very dark bar "hanging out" with the Ash Reiter band. We talk about the terrible ordeal that is "game day" in Berkeley, being drunk before a show, and she tells me the meaning behind my favorite songs. wow, that made my night. they dont even have to perform at this point. i dont get what so cool about bars. who wants to pay for every piece of alchohol they drink? good thing i have my own. i take a swig. shit the bartender saw me. please dont come over here. can i see the bottle in your bag? fuck. what this bottle? whats the problem. its just iced tea. i dont even drink. theres no need to open it up and smell it or anything mr. bartender man. you trust me right? okay your good. wow that was close. maybe its better if i dont call attention to myself in this bar that im legally not supposed to be in and didnt pay to get in to. they finally play and its all i needed. red air light. this is great. la bahia. thank you ash. paper diamonds. how sweet. stumble and fall. why yes, i think i will. i have to catch something across the bay so i get on my new bike and speed down some sidewalks. i wait for the last train as some man plays the ukelele and sings about his lost love in Cancún. it was the perfect way to end a sunday night alone in the city.