I'm a Bay Area boy

One of the quintessential college experiences is a spring break consistent of beaches and binge drinking. Yes, most of my peers found themselves wasting away to the chants of “Chug, chug, chug,” at the Mango Deck Club in Cabo, Mexico this past week. I never had that experience, however. Five days of suffering through a crowded and boozy beach for $1500 just isn’t my thing. In my pattern of deviating from the normal college spring break I couch surfed at an old friend’s apartment in San Francisco for a few days.

I touched down in San Francisco to the confusing ballad Frontier Psychiatrist by The Avalanches with grey wet skies overhead. It was a fitting entrance considering the hellish week of tests and lab reports I finished before my escape into break. My friend, Eddie, who had flown in from Phoenix a few days earlier, and my host, Carter, picked me up from the airport in an old Dodge SUV Carter’s roommate from New York let them borrow. We drove from SFO to the Richmond District, a part of San Francisco right above Golden Gate Park. I settled into a grungy apartment filled with takeout containers, old beat up furniture and at least three bongs (it’s legal in California you know). The next day Carter had planned a party in the back yard of his San Franciscan/Victorian style three tenant house. The forecasted rain never showed up and we spent most of the afternoon drinking PBR and meeting Carter’s local crew. Carter was scheduled to DJ a party for one the fraternities that night, so we donned our rally caps and packed a good 50lbs of DJ equipment into the back of an Uber. The three of us were up on a small stage crowded around Carter’s DJ booth playing Bay Area classics like ‘Cupcake No Fillin’” for hundreds of drunk college kids. Full disclosure: Eddie and I really didn’t do any of the DJing, we mostly just danced around up on stage while Carter did all the real work.

Eddie (left) and Carter (right)

We woke up the next day a bit worse for wear and spent the day at Golden Gate Park. Carter, being the Bay Area enthusiast that he is kept reminding us that the park is in fact larger than Central Park in New York. We wandered around the park for a bit, making our way through rose and Japanese tea gardens alike. Carter and Eddie lit up a joint (I don’t partake, but again, it’s legal) as we watched ducks and geese crisscross a small lake.

It was now Monday and Carter had class. Eddie and I were left to our own devices and decided to take the bus down to the Golden Gate Bridge. I have to mention how wonderful the public transportation in San Francisco is. From there we took a five mile walk along the bay to Fisherman’s Warf. There we grabbed lunch and watched sea lions bark and sleep. That night we went out to an old 1920s movie theater that had now been converted into a bar. There were at least one hundred arcade games where the seats had once been and the 50’ screen in the front was being used to project movies as ambiance.

We woke up the next day, packed our bags and said our goodbyes and headed to the airport. On the plane ride home I came to a realization that I should move out to San Francisco at some point in my life, which is now exactly my plan after graduation.