Today I was riding the bus through Chinatown. I hadn’t taken time to put on my headphones, and so I was enjoying eavesdropping on the people around me. There was a couple behind me. I never turned to see them, but they sounded like middle-aged tourists. What amused me about their conversation, aside from the man saying “I like you to have the things that make you happy because that’s how much I love you” in response to her noting how she failed to offer a bite of her delicious bagel that morning (chuckle, puh-lease :) was how the rest of their conversation centered around planning for their evening. “Will we feel like going out if we have dinner at this time?...Hmm if we have italian tonight, we should probably find something else for tomorrow?” It was the most tedious exchange I’d ever heard. Just when I thought they had worked it out, one of them would bring up another concern. It was one of those moments that you tuck away and promise yourself to never be that person, full knowing you probably will.

My experience on the bus serves as a pleasant lead-in to the story of my first night outing in SF. Yes, it was the first time I was out past dark. Several of us from work ended up at the Webmonkey party at The Gallery Lounge. We took full advantage of the open bar and spent our time out on the patio, away from the propaganda of the evening. I had an excellent time. Of course, all I have to say is that I had 1 vodka tonic on an empty stomach, and you can guess how the evening played out. My inner social butterfly emerged. There were some great conversations, and I met a lot more people. Excellent.

Well, as is typical in big groups, there was an awkward, lingering debate on where to continue the evening. And so the group size slowly dwindled as each pair split off on their separate ways. And so 6 of us remained. We decided on having some hamburgers at one guy’s apartment. Next thing I knew we were filing in to a limo and then out and into an elevator, where we lingered for a good 5 minutes constantly pushing the button. We didn’t find meat at the local market, and so 2 people were designated to go out and secure some. They were gone forever and several rumors spun up from that, of course, since we had nothing else to do but drink, eat chips, and dream up interesting scenarios.

I’m making this sound way more boring than it was. Oh, that’s because we were alone in a guy’s apartment without him there. We didn’t even think to put the beer in the refrigerator, let alone try to snoop. A shame, really.

I should have written the post last night. Now I’m all sober and factual and boring. Bummer. But trust me, it was a crazy little night and I had a brilliant time. I became instant friends with a lovely girl named Diana, who loves surfing (waves, not the internet) and shares my fear of women. Kindred spirits, really. Justin scored points as a keeper friend by walking me home at midnight, while carrying his bike. And I exchanged race stories with a Canadian. It was good times. I look forward to future adventures.

In other news, I think I have an apartment. A really, really small apartment that will likely drive me crazy but hopefully I’m not home as much as I’m accustomed to being in the past.

REM, Modest Mouse, and The National tomorrow. I’m stoked! I hope I remember how to drive.