GDC 08: Daily Journal Day 0
11:15 PM
I knew the week was off to a good start when I got sick on the plane. I’ve been flying since I was two years-old and haven’t been sick once, until tonight.
It’s my first visit to San Francisco and only my second to California. SFO is one of the nicest airports I’ve ever been in and is bustling with activity even at this hour. I still think the horizontal escalator is mankind’s crowning achievement.
At the baggage carousel, a small old Chinese man collected at least six bags, all of which were at least 150 lbs. I know this, because I assisted him pulling them off the conveyor belt.
The BART is an absolutely abysmal public transportation system.
My train arrives at the Powell Street station and I climb the stairs out to the street level and step out into a whole different universe. There’s a Forever 21 and Nordstorm and all the buildings seems incredibly opulent at first glance, but the streets are filthy and populated by the homeless.
My hotel is on O’Farrell Street. It reminds me of a level in Condemned. My room is 2′ by nothing, but the bed and bathroom are clean so I can’t complain. I climb through the window and stand out on the fire escape to admire the view.
The building across the street has a beautiful exterior and is abandoned inside and I can see the barren drywalls and flickering lightbulbs. There’s a posh Irish pub on the corner and a woman in a dew rag and sleepers is waiting outside the entrance, pleading patrons to buy her a hamburger.
After settling in, I head back out and go to a Thai Noodle shop a block away. The BBQ pork noodle soup is one of the most delicious things tastes like the best meal I’ve ever had, and for a moment, I think I could actually live in this city.
I wander the streets for a while and end up in Union Square, which is a beautiful park surrounded by more opulent stores like Sak’s. Asian girls strut down the sidewalks in herds and there are hipster guys everywhere. I could almost mistake this place for some of the seedier parts of Manhattan, except the California license plates remind me every minute of where I really am.
On the way back to my hotel, I stop at a convenience store and buy a bottle of water and bag of Pepperidge Farms cookies for a little more than $8. I give my change to a toothless woman standing outside.
2:10 AM
Back in the room. The circa-1900 heating unit in the corner is emitting a serpentine hiss and making the room unbearably warm. I’d leave the window open a crack, but I’m terrified about someone coming through my window by way of the fire escape.
The night is punctuated by glass breaking and the occasional shout.
Tomorrow, the real fun begins.