More True Tales Of San Francisco

• Although we probably paid too much for our hotel, the Holiday Inn at Fisherman's Wharf, it was great.  Customer service was at times Frisco-surly, but the concierges were really good and informative.  Best of all was the location.  Besides the panhandlers up and down the main drag at the Wharf (a block or so away), there was enough touristy things for me to occupy my time at night.  It may not be authentic, but I love that there was an In-N-Out virtually behind the hotel.  The night we had to leave I had a beer at Hooters, which was across the alleyway from In-N-Out, also virtually behind the hotel.  The terminus of the streetcar to Chinatown was a couple blocks away.And when Mother wanted a bottle of water, thank goodness I passed up the hotel store and went around the block to Walgreens.
• And one other thing: the last touristy thing we did (well, I kind of dragged Mother out to do this) was to check Lombard Street after the sun was down.  I had to make sure I knew where I was going because this was my thing, so I needed to make damn sure we didn't get lost on our way to getting back on the streetcar because we had several hours left before we had to get to the airport.  So after taking my photos, I directed us down the cross-street that was at the bottom of Lombard (forget what street that is, rather not spend time finding it).  We keep going down, and down, and down ... until we actually get to our hotel.  Like I said, you can't beat the location.
• Oh, by the way, I was complaining about My Fucking Father being a fucking asshole when booking the hotel.  Well, reserving the night we were supposed to leave, instead of checking out 12 hours before heading off to the airport was the right thing to do.  We didn't have to lug our shit around, we took our time, we were able to shower, and Mother was able to cut some vegetables she bought from Chinatown.  And that allowed me to have a couple hours to myself at Hooters and In-N-Out.
• The one time I really lost my cool is taking us to the wrong place to get our bus for our final dinner, in town, at Chinatown.  We wanted to take the bus instead of the streetcar because it was too crowded and we used the bus from Chinatown back to the hotel, so we might as well use that mode of transportation again.  Well, I got us turned around; I saw the stop in relation to a certain side of the hotel it stopped at on the way back, which was across the street from the Holiday Inn, but I saw it incorrectly.  I actually saw the bus we needed to take stop and leave before we got to the correct spot.  We then waited about half an hour for another bus.  One bus actually passed by our stop because it was full; saw one girl who got there before us flip that bus off.  (Why weren't there more buses?  Liberal Frisco manners, meet liberal Frisco union laws, I guess.)  As we were waiting and I was stewing, Mother pointed out the stop when we got back from Chinatown and how we were now at the stop on the way to Chinatown, which was across the street from that stop, and I shouted, "Yeah, yeah!!!"  I'm glad Mother let my outburst slide.
• Our first day there we did Alcatraz.  Awesome.  Moreover, I am starting to really dig America's National Park System.  It may be because we sat down for a little snippet of Ken Burns's NPS documentary that recently played on PBS before leaving the island.  But these parks are where much of our taxpayer dollars go.  And if it goes to preserving our national heritage and identity, as Burns states, I'm all for it.  This is our land, guys; if it's just as informative as Alcatraz, let's use it.

There may be more.