“You know what San Francisco reminds me of?” I asked Jeffrey as we walked down Van Ness Street, in the heart of town.
“What’s that?” he replied.
“'Sister Act,’” I replied, “And ‘Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit’ while we’re at it.”
And…we’ve arrived.
“You know,” Jeffrey said, “I’ve always preferred ‘Sister Act 2, if I’m being honest.”
“Me too,” I replied, “I had a meeting with the producers of ‘Sister Act: the musical’ in New York a few months ago and I told them that I thought it would be a good idea if they did ‘Sister Act’ and ‘Sister Act 2’ as musicals together in repertory. They told me to fuck off.”
“Oh well, valiant effort,” Jeffrey replied.
Jeffrey and I walked down to the Castro District of town, the place where gaydom was born and decided to eat at a lovely little restaurant called Chow. Upon our arrival, I checked us in on Facebook and we took a seat ready to eat dinner.
We ordered dinner and Jeffrey began rambling on about Buffalo (I swear to God one of these days the kid is going to take a shit that reminds him of Buffalo and twet me a picture of it) and I decided to use the lavatory because I had been holding in a day’s worth of pee. Traveling is fun and all, but when you are going from city to city, day after day, it becomes exhausting and dehydrating. For whatever reason, ever since I’ve left New York, it’s almost as if I have been chewing on an imaginary salt lick for the past week and a half. I excused myself and went to pee.
The line for the bathroom was about three deep and I couldn’t help but notice that the only people in line were Asian girls. Suddenly, I flashed back to one of my last night’s in New York City and one of my most Asian friends, Boa. Boa used to live in San Francisco and all I could do was think about how much fun he’d be having if he were here. It’s a town full of Asians and gay people, he’d naturally fit right in.
I went back to the table and was thankful that our food had arrived upon my return. As I began to eat, I looked up and saw a familiar, yet unexpected face.
“Oh my God!” I yelled.
“What?” Jeffrey questioned.
“OH MY GOD!” I leapt up from the table and was greeted by Boa who was grinning from ear to ear.
“Surprise, bitch!” Boa said.
“OH MY GOD!” I yelled again.
“I was going to surprise you at your book reading tomorrow night, but I saw that you checked in on Facebook here and I was like, ‘eh, fuck it’,” he said.
I hugged Boa for about forty-five minutes, stuck my tongue down his throat then smacked him on the ass. If you’ll recall, I wasn’t one hundred per cent sure when I’d see my most Asian friend again, because when we left New York, his plans were very much up in the air. I almost cried upon seeing him. He’s such a good friend.
After dinner, Jeffrey and I met up with Boa and his band of misfit Asians and misfit Asian wannabes. Luckily for me, nothing has changed with our dear Boa.
“God, I hate everybody,” Boa said as we met him at the Lookout, a hotspot among the local San Francisco gays.
“No surprises there,” I replied.
“And, I am hammered!” he then said.
“Seriously Boa? It’s like 8:30.”
“Yea, I know,” he replied, “we’ve been drinking all day. AND I HATE EVERYONE!” he screamed.
“Ok, I got it,” I replied.
The Lookout is a bar near the Castro that literally looks out onto the street and is raised above ground so you can see everyone walking below you. After I told Boa of my most recent heartbreak, that took place a few weeks back in New York, he proceeded to then yell at everyone below us.
“God I hate gay people,” he said, “I cannot believe this happened to you AGAIN. What the fuck is wrong with everyone?”
“I don’t know,” he replied.
“I HATE GAY PEOPLE!” Boa yelled to the pedestrians on the street.
“It’s OK girl,” I said as I rubbed his back. “It’s OK.”
“I HATE EVERYONE!” He yelled again as one of the people walking down the street then looked up at us.
“Oh honey, he’s not talking about you,” I yelled down to the street to the man who must have thought he had walked by an insane asylum.
“Why is everyone so stupid?” Boa asked.
“I don’t know girl,” I replied, “it may have something to do with the seventeen drinks you’ve had tonight, just saying.”
“Ugh,” Boa sighed.
God love my girl Boa, she has been through it the past few months. I am pretty sure that he has dated every asshole that I haven’t in the New York Metro Area as well as parts of California.
Boa, Jeffrey and I went to another bar, but Boa’s co-worker was date rape drug wasted so he had to take him back to their hotel and Jeffrey and I went back to ours where I then proceeded to snuggle up with my Flat Stanley Susan Lucci.
We were fortunate enough to spend a full five days in San Francisco so I decided I would do my part and spend a day volunteering at some of the local AA Meetings and Sober Houses in the area. As many know, I am a huge advocate for gays and lesbians or anyone for that matter in helping in other people’s efforts in getting sober and staying sober. When I lived in New York, I spent a lot of my time at the detox center at a local hospital and continue to help people whenever I can. Early last week, I was featured in The Advocate Magazine, which was an amazing honor and I spoke about my book, my tour and my sobriety. Unfortunately, because so many people are so short sided, there were tons of comments about the gay community having dealt with their alcohol and drug problems and many people who read the article did not think that it was an issue anymore with the community. Having written a mother fucking book about it, I can tell you, with one hundred per cent certainty that it is. In fact, it’s an even bigger problem than it was when I began writing “Blackouts and Breakdowns”. Now a reported thirty-three per cent (that’s one third) of the LGBT community struggles with drug and alcohol addiction. So to everyone who felt the need to comment about what I was doing without having researched the hard facts I respond to you: Please go suck a black dick, if you already aren’t. You clearly have no idea what the fuck you are talking about and too much time on your hands.
Anyway, upon my tour of the AA meetings of San Francisco, I met some very wonderful people. There is a sober house on Castro Street called the Castro Country Club, which I highly recommend every AA to visit while they are in town, because it is one of the only places of it’s kind and is run by a group of truly amazing people.
Enough with the sober talk! Our adventures in San Francisco were truly amazing. This city is filled with unbelievable people and it’s one of the only cities outside of New York that I have felt the presence of an actual gay “community”. There is also another community here that rivals anything New York has ever seen.
“So…” Jeffrey said as we left a book event on Monday night. “Can we walk down a street other than rape alley?”
“Rape alley?” I asked.
“Yea, rape alley,” he responded, “the corner of Market and Van Ness streets. I call it rape alley. There are like fifteen homeless people that just hang out there and every time I walk by, I feel like I may be raped.”
As we were having this conversation, a homeless man walked by.
“Can I have a cigarette?” the homeless man asked me.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I am out,” I responded.
“WHAT?!?!?!?!” the homeless man said.
I quickly looked over to Jeffrey who had a face a sheer horror.
“YOU NEVER DO ANYTHING FOR ME!!!!” the homeless man yelled.
“Excuse me?” I questioned.
“YOU NEVER DO ANYTHING FOR ME!!!!” he yelled again.
“But we just met,” I responded.
“YOU NEVER DO ANYTHING FOR ME!!!!” the man was clearly off his rocker, if not for the fact that he was yelling at me for absolutely no reason, but for the fact that he was walking down the street with his shoes in his hand.
“What are you talking about?” Jeffrey chimed in. “He gave you a blowjob last night! Go away!”
And with that, the homeless man fled. Good old Jeffrey coming through in the clutch.
“The homeless people in San Francisco have got nothing on the homeless people in New York. It’s unbelievable.”
As I was saying this, a homeless woman walked up to me.
“Do you have a light?” she asked me.
“Sure,” I responded as I gave her a lighter.
Her face lit up: “OH MY GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH!” she yelled.
Here we go again.
The homeless woman then proceeded to hug me for five minutes straight until she saw something shiny and continued on down the street.
“Jesus!” I said.
“Can we please go back to the hotel?” Jeffrey asked.
Without even realizing it, we had walked down rape alley anyway. We held each other for comfort and made it back to the hotel in one piece.
We have loved our journey to the City by the Bay. Our events were awesome, our new friends were awesome and we learned a lot. Now it’s time for Jeffrey, Susan Lucci and I to head to the City of Angles for quite possibly our biggest event for the book tour – and thank God – Boa will be there waiting for us.
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