A Day On The Street

Flying tortillas, drag queens, giant squirting breasts on wheels, old naked people, live rock bands, house parties, beer, and Kenyans. That's what the Bay to Breakers Race--the longest running race in the world, or the largest, I forget--is all about.

The starting line: It's 7:45 am and the streets are already packed with thousands of runners and walkers dressed in shorts, tutus, grass skirts, and invisible trousers. I choose to join the walkers on Stuart Street. Arriving there, I'm quickly assaulted with a surprise attack by a massive fleet of flying tortillas. Corn and flour varieties strike the old and young alike while punk rock plays in the background.

Total chaos.

Walkers search desperately for shelter from the delicious Mexican projectiles. They dive behind mailboxes and each other. They climb on trees and giant breastessess, but their attempts to dodge the tortillas of terror are futile. It appears the wraps of wrath are equipped with homing or heat seeking devices as they wallop the innocent with uncanny precision.

At last a gun goes off and the destructive discs of disaster crash violently into the asphalt. The walkers are victorious as they march along the dough carpeted street.

Mile 2: About 20 minutes into the 7 1/2 mile long walk, I spot my first group of naked people. I take a quick glance at the Texaco/BK and there they are. Thier scaly, almost reptilian-like skin folds in layers over their ugly shaped bodies. *shivers* Excuse me while I call Earl...

Mile 4: Half way through, I see my first drag queen dressed in an Ursula costume. I wonder why it took so long, and then "the fallopian swim team", a centipede of sperm, interrupts me.

Mile 6: I'm almost done, with a mile and a half to go. I push on enthused, passing the rock bands, turntablists, naked people, a guy offering free breast exams, marines pushing kegs of beer, and more naked people.

The finish line: Yay I'm done! Handel's oratorio enjoys a pleasant stay in my mind for a good 2 minutes. I crawl to Foot Stock, where I buy a small $5 burrito. The sweetness of revenge makes love to my moist taste buds as I chomp and chomp. Yum.

After Bay to Breakers, I went home and slept. I got up and got ready for my 2nd jazz concert. Mary Stallings was singing at Diego Rivera. I hopped on the K, got off, and walked through this hella thick fog. This fog was thick, man. I walked into branches and stuff a couple of times.

Anyway, I finally made my way into the theater, sat, and relaxed. The bass, piano and drum trio opened with a tune from Kind of Blue, then Miss Stallings stepped out in this nice red dress. She didn't look so bad for an old lady. The stage was prepped for West Side Story, so it was tilted towards the audience. It looked like she drank a quart when she walked down stage in those heels, and she confirmed it when she said "I aint drunk". It was a great show. I loved it. Makes me wanna go back in time and see the Basie band on The Street. Afterwards, I bought her CD and got it autographed.

As you can pretty much tell by how boring this entry is, I'm pooped. It was a fun day. Imma go and fall asleep listening to Shuggie Otis. Nighty-nite.

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