I left 35 dollars in singles with a stripper in San Francisco

We leave the sweltering armpit that is Las Vegas and head out into the Mojave Desert. Temperature outside of the car reaches 113 degrees. Temperatures stay refreshingly chilly as both Eric and I are chewing Dentyne Ice, Spearmint flavor, the coldest of all the mint flavors.
Cross the Nevada/California border. Car is inspected for any sort of contraband being smuggled across the border. And by contraband I mean fruits and vegetables of any kind. And by inspected I mean a Mexican woman waved at us as we drove through the checkpoint.
Sun goes down as we approach LA. We merge onto some highway in LA, 10 or the 405 or something like that. Eric, ‘driving here is like war.’ Proceeds to drive like an asshole, immediately cuts someone off, ‘fucking cocksucker what the fuck pick a lane.’ Arrive in Santa Monica. Hang out with Tim. Go to Del Taco. Eat 4 tacos. Go to sleep.
Wake up the next morning drive down to the beach and decide I am moving here. Sorry Boston.
Go to In N Out. Eat a delicious hamburger. Rest of my LA experience is pretty much just me hanging out at Tim’s and driving around places.

Pacific Coast Highway out of LA and up through Malibu and along the Pacific coast to San Francisco. BEATIFUL.

Arrive in San Fran. Find a Starbucks to get on the Internet and find a hotel room. 5 minutes after we get coffee and about 15 minutes since we entered the city a crazy homeless man comes in and starts yelling. He leaves. He kicks over a sign outside the Starbucks and gets his foot caught in it. He does an awkward kick jump and tries to stay mad. Hipster Barista yells at him. He yells back. He storms back into Starbucks and pushes his backpack into the face of the Hipster Barista. Hipster Barista counters with a push/slap and leg kick. Crazy Homeless dude ducks slap and shoves backpack into Hipster Barista’s face. HB dodges the backpack and pushes CH back towards the door, while yelling, “Get the fuck out of Starbucks Mother Fucker, and get the fuck out!” More slap/pushing ensues until finally CH is forced out of the doors, which HB is able to lock. CH returns and pulls on the locked doors, screaming obscenities towards HB.
We leave Starbucks and drive to our hotel. The Hotel Renoir from the pictures online looks like a very luxurious and well-kept hotel. We check in amongst a full battalion of police officers on some kind of raid outside the hotel. Our room has views of two very nice strip clubs (foreshadowing) a liquor store, and a rite aid pharmacy.
As we are checking in I ask the hotel clerk if he has a restaurant list, he hands me the restroom key. I ask if he can recommend some good San Fran restaurants. He recommends the Jack in the Box or Burger King across the street.
We go out for dinner.
Find a bar. 50 percent chance we are walking into a gay bar.
Start drinking, and make friends with the bartender, start drinking free beers. We are that charming. Bartenders start ringing a bell and flashing the lights. I befriend a local girl. I ask what there is to do in San Fran after closing time, which is about 2:30am. Her response, the strip clubs across the street from our hotel room.
I finish the rest of my drink.
3:15am I enter the Market Street Cinemas Fully Nude Strip Club. I have to check my hat at the door. There are more strippers than patrons. We sit down in the front row. I ask some creepy smiley dude in a suit with an earpiece if he can get me change for two twenties. He comes back within a minute with two stacks of twenty ones, each rubber banded. I start to enjoy the reasons why anyone would come to a strip club, the good music and the companionship of the fellow patrons.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and smell what would have to be an entire bottle of Britney Spears signature perfume, on sale at Kmart and other mart stores. No lie, I hear the following phrase in my ear, ‘Oooh baby. Me so horny’ complete with Asian accent.
I turn around and see the wildest Asian stripper I am assuming has ever existed.
If you want to hear the rest of this story just buy me a beer or two.
The rest of this story will include:
Asian Stripper arguing with me over my balance at an ATM.
Asian Stripper trying to sell me drugs.
Me trying to understand Asian Stripper talking dirty with her heavy accent.
Make it back to my hotel room. I’m not sure where the girl I befriended ended up.
The next morning we go explore San Fran. Drive the curviest street and try to find the full house house.
We try to get a tour to Alcatraz. I ask a tour guide how much it would cost. He asks if Eric and I live together. I answer no. 79 dollars. I ask what if we did live together. Free tomorrow.
We cross the Golden Gate and head into wine country. Next Post up soon.