Eric & Thor's Visit

Last week Thor and his brother Eric came a-visiting. It was Thor's birthday when they touched down, that was a week ago. My apologies for taking so long to post anything regarding their time here, but it was coming directly on the heels of my job being axed (see below) and the events kind of pulled a one-two punch on me.

So anyway, Thor and Eric touched down on Friday, and we proceeded to get some dinner at a great little place, Ming's Seafood Garden, after we picked up the ladies from Eva's.

After some good ol' fashioned Chinese food we cabbed it to Bacchus Kirk, where drinks were ordered and we secured a little corner booth for everyone to lounge around. Bacchus
is a great little shack of a place on Nob Hill, and everyone was having a great time. My moustache ensured that I was safely looking like a child molester all evening given my companion's youthful countenance.

Thorin loves the Mission, so after awhile he was demanding we depart for said quarter of the city. Two separate cab rides later we arrive at Doc's Clock for drinks, reveling in $2 Olympia. However, Doc's was only a brief respite for our thirst so we pushed onto The Mission Bar, where we downed some Pabst, and I think Thor did some shot of something or other.

We were pressing onto another bar, the Napper, when I ran into, of all people, a guy named Francis whom I used to work with. He accompanied us down the street to 24th and Van Ness where we did another round before hunger and last calls set upon us. We left The Napper in two groups, and apparently narrowly missed danger in one instance and confronted it in the other.

While at the Napper a gentleman had been accosting us to purchase dime bags of ganja from him, and smoke it. None of us were really open to this idea, and one in our party was especially vocal in his protests. The first three of us left and proceeded up the street where they encountered said dealer and his crew on the corner, but my friends just crossed the street and kept their path to avoid him. The others of us, though, were not so lucky. As we reached the corner of 24th and Capp we espied a big FAX/Copy machine (typical of every office since 1995) and, of course, had to make light of it. This attracted the attention of Senor ganja dealer and his crew who were in the adjacent parking lot. When they confronted us I turned and walked away, not wanting to get jacked in the Mission.

Some of my companions did not have the same instincts and while I merely walked away, intent on burritos and a bed, they turned to begin a conversation on French politics or to debate the existence of free will in an epistemological framework, something to that affect. Well, turned out the vatos weren't so keen on conversation and instead shook the dudes down. Luckily no one had any money to cough up and they went away empty handed, but it was still not cool.

The next day we grabbed some brekkies at the Olympia cafe instead of Dottie's cuz the damn line was just too long. Their food's good, but that 45 minutes waiting for duck fennel sausage can easily be translated into mojitos and omelettes down the street, and after enough champagne you don't really care if it's greasy, in fact you enjoy the food more. After Olympia we went to Red's and the weather was fantastic for some brews, some finger food and the bay right at our feet.

From Red's we ventured back down the peninsula to San Mateo for some infamous Habanero Hamburgers. They used to be served at what was then the Prince of Wales Pub. Now it's the same place but it's got some other name and they remodeled the interior. I think the remodeling was OK, thye put down new floors, but the place lost a lot of character that went into it being so unique. There was formerly a lot of sports junk all over, a real Giants strong hold, now it was kind of sanitary. That, and the service sucked donkey. I ordered fish and chips, with some nachos to appetize me. Well, the fish came out without chips (WTF?!) and the guy didn't even bother to tell me that they were out. Just served me some fish. And the nachos? Tortilla chips with cheeze whip dumpe don them. Worthless.



That didn't sour the day, though. We returned to Palo Alto, hit up the Old Pro where there was a girl who just couldn't get enoug of the bull and rode the damn thing like 8 times with all her friends. After that it was Rudy's and then a walk home. We put Thor and his bro on the plane the next day not much worse for wear and belly full of breakfast Palo Alto style, to boot.