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this is what i did in san francisco: i caught a marcus foster show at the elbo room. after being despondent about having to miss his san diego gig, i found out jet blue was having a one-day sale so i bought a ticket to sanfran. ended up staying at a flophouse, the frances hotel at 16&mission. i mean it -- it was a FLOPHOUSE. my room was tiny and dingy and drenched in cigarette smoke. the walls were dirty and peeling paint in some parts, the carpet was filthy, with black spots, and the tiny window was covered with a sheet of fabric. i only had one towel, a tiny bar of soap, and a roll of toilet paper to take with me when i had to use the loo in the hallway. i only stayed there overnight, but i was a bit freaked--some lady had a ranting and raging spell in the wee hours of the morning, punctuated by thuds against the wall. i slept on top of the twin bed and placed my shirt over the pillow, with my sweater as cover. i didn't bother showering in the morning. after throwing on some clothes and brushing my teeth, i got out of there by 8am sunday.
i'll never forget the frances hotel, especially the kind souls who helped me out when i needed to hail a cab to marcus's show and when i thought the door to the hotel was jammed.
funny moments: hotel guy asks a lady tenant for the number to a cab: "it's 333-3333." hotel guy can't get through to anyone at that number so he asks another tenant, the guy who hailed a cab for me: "oh, that's 777-7777." inside, i was laughing. then i went outside with the guy and he ran in the middle of the street, his dog tucked under his arm, waving his other arm, and i yelled, "nooo, get over here, we can hail a cab from this side!" when a cab arrived not a minute later, the guy opened the door for me.
as depressing as that flophouse was, i don't regret my stay there.
and? marcus foster was totally worth it. maybe one day i will tell him what i went through just to catch his show in sanfran.
did i mention that sanfran international airport is a fuckin' maze? yeah, let's not go there.
i'll never forget the frances hotel, especially the kind souls who helped me out when i needed to hail a cab to marcus's show and when i thought the door to the hotel was jammed.
funny moments: hotel guy asks a lady tenant for the number to a cab: "it's 333-3333." hotel guy can't get through to anyone at that number so he asks another tenant, the guy who hailed a cab for me: "oh, that's 777-7777." inside, i was laughing. then i went outside with the guy and he ran in the middle of the street, his dog tucked under his arm, waving his other arm, and i yelled, "nooo, get over here, we can hail a cab from this side!" when a cab arrived not a minute later, the guy opened the door for me.
as depressing as that flophouse was, i don't regret my stay there.
and? marcus foster was totally worth it. maybe one day i will tell him what i went through just to catch his show in sanfran.
did i mention that sanfran international airport is a fuckin' maze? yeah, let's not go there.
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