Bright and early the next morning, I awoke to this fabulous view of the city:

Once The Ring had had his Rachel Ray and Regis and Kelly fix, we set out to meet the new day. First stop, the hotel gift shop to pick up day passes for the street cars.

“That will be eleven dollar!” smiled the Japanese man behind the counter. “Conductor ask for pass, he make you scratch off date and month. You no scratch, you use maybe 2 day! No scratch 2 day, maybe use 3 day! No scratch at all, you bring back — I give you eleven dollar merchandise in store!”

Passes in hand and mass transit corruption plans in the back of our minds, we exited the hotel and were soon en route to Pier 39.
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San Francisco Fun Fact: San Francisco cable cars are the only moving national historic landmark. 9.7 million people take the nine mile per hour ride on them each year. At the Cable Car Barn Museum, 500-horsepower electric motors turn the endless cable loops.
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We had barely stepped off the street car when it was picture taking time. Never one to pass up a cheesy photo op, I had my pic taken with a badly rendered life size pirate…

…and Dame Edna-ing it at a 3 for $20 sunglass shop. Hello, possums!

From there we went to In-N-Out Burger which featured a rather limited menu: burgers, fries, drinks. Trying to avoid mad cow disease, I opted for the fries.

As we were walking down the street, a potted plant suddenly leapt toward me! Oh wait, it wasn’t a potted plant — it was The Bushman, a man on a milk crate hiding behind tree limbs.

“I scared you fair and square,” he laughed, “now pay up…!” And so in exchange for a scare and a pic, I gave him a dollar.

Along the way, we saw a wax museum Elvira on display:

Next up, the sea lions! How funny! How cute! How fucking stanky! Sweet mother of Gawd — it smelled like Bingo Tuesday at Old Boy’s nursing home.

I would like to note that everywhere you go in the city, you are witness to the heterosexual agenda. Literally hundreds of straight couples hanging all over each other, promoting their sick lifestyle and forcing it down your throat.

From there it was a walk-thru of the shops and the opportunity to buy lots of tchotchkes containing lead based paint and other hazardous contaminants courtesy of our friends in the far east. I resisted — except for a couple of shot glasses for DuShawn (bottoms up, bud!). And butter my ass and call it a biscuit, they were selling this nasty ass shit:

Funny, but that’s what we used to call vuh-jayjays in high school.

While we were in the area, we checked out reader Dennis’s old address. Sorry, Dennis, the pic of your old place didn’t turn out, but this pic of The Ring on Kearney Street did:

As we were waiting for the cable car to turn around (and did you know they manually turn them around on a huge turntable at the end of the run? They do! And if I knew how to load the fucking video of it happening from my camera into my computer and then post it here you could see it, but I am technologically retarded so you’ll have to take my word for it), I spotted one of those little stands offering free guides to the city.

Never passing up anything free, I went to grab a couple only to discover they were all gone and a balloon animal made from a condom was inside. How do I know it was a condom? Few balloons are that small, ribbed, and have a special resevoir tip…

Upon our return to the hotel room, we discovered the maid had tidied up…and left the nasty ass cheese and crackers for our continued “enjoyment. ” Thus began the greatest nightmare since the ordeal of Patty Hearst. I give to you “The Great Cheese and Water Cracker Hostage Drama of Two Thousand Aught Seven – Day One”:

Soon we were off to do what gay men do best: shop.
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San Francisco Fun Fact: Union Square is one of the top four shopping areas in the nation. Boutiques, spas, galleries, specialty shops, upscale retailers, and San Francisco’s only Frank Lloyd Wright building fill nearby Maiden Lane, but it wasn’t always quite so respectable. Once home to the decadent whorehouses, the former Morton Street was so depraved that even the police were reluctant to go there.
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First stop? The Disney Store where I dropped another $33.64 on whimsical pvc characters of my favorites from THE LITTLE MERMAID and BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.

Then began my indoctrination into the strange and heady world of “name brand” fashion courtesy of The Ring. My lesson began at Macy’s where The Ring was coveting a “really cute jacket that would be perfect for work or a night out” as well as a “really cute pair of shoes that would go great with a suit or jeans.”

Um, okay.

Unable to decide on either item, The Ring coveted both, then decided to think it over and return the next day if it became apparent he could not live without them. Onward to Nordstrom’s for more shoe shopping.

Later in the day I made the aquaintance of a little store called Old Navy where I spotted an adorable shirt guaranteed to make me look damn near stylin’. Before I could purchase it, however, The Ring informed me that if I waited they were sure to feature said shirt in a “2 for $25″ sale because that;s what they always do. Being the frugal faggot that I am, I put away my credit card and made a mental note to check out this sale when I got home. Onward to Bloomingdale’s and Cole Haan for more shoes — $250 for a pair of shoes? Oh hells to the no.

Sensing that my “cocksucker on $5 a day” style of dress was nearly sensory overload, The Ring called it a day on the shopping and we went back to the hotel with our goodies.

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San Francisco Fun Fact: The Ring had to scratch his street car pass that first day. I did not.
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As night fell, we realized we were hungry and set out for sustenance. While waiting to cross the street to Uncle Vito’s, a quaint little corner Italian eaterie, a diminutive black woman missing her most 9 of her front teeth approached us.

“Hello, Sir…I’m Sela and I was born blind in both eyes! My father died 3 hours ago and I need to raise money for his funeral…do you think you could help me?”

Unsure exactly how to respond, I offered up a weak “wow, those are some hard breaks you’ve had there, Sela…”

Not one to dwell on a glass half full, Sela grabbed my arm and began rubbing what would pass for a bicep on some men. “Did you like your Easter gift?” she cooed, looking up at me while I gazed into miles of pink gum and rotting teeth. “I spent 6 weeks picking it out…”

“I LOVED that Easter gift! That was some rockin’ shit, Sela…!”

The poor batshit crazy old girl flashed me that $1.47 smile, her eyes gleaming with 9 kinds of crazy. “I knew you would! I just knew it! And now you have a 3 day holiday weekend to enjoy it…”

Suddenly, The Ring caught her eye. “Oooooooooooh — that’s a pretty ring!” she exclaimed, letting go of my arm and leaning in for a better look.

The Ring positioned itself under Tyler’s armpit. “Mm-hmmm,” he replied, “stay back. It’s a very special ring — it made you able to see.”

As WALK symbol appeared, I gave Sela 75 cents which she promptly tucked in the rolled up cuff of her jeans. Crossing the street, I could hear her: “Sir, could you help me? I was born deaf in both ears and my mother died 3 months ago…”

Once inside Vito’s we were promptly seated in a prime location — in the corner beside the bathroom door. I had a personal pan pork sausage and onion pizza. My compliments to the chef.

The Ring had the most enormous fucking calzone I have ever seen. Filled with meats and peppers and a shitload of cheese, I have to say I was more than a bit taken aback when some of the filling hit his plate looking like a Monostat 7 moment:

After our meal, The Ring elected to call it an evening and head back to the hotel while I quickly caught a cab to the San Francisco Eagle where I had the pleasure of meeting Steve, a handsome bearded bear originally from Iowa; super cute Tom, computer game designer born and bred in Oakland; and “the pierced guy from Berkley with the great smile” who was kind enough to take me under his wing and introduce me to everyone. Special shout-out to bartender Vern who was not only welcoming, but went out of his way and called cab driver Ken for this out of town fag so that I would make it back to my hotel in one piece. Much appreciated, Vern.

MONDAY: Alcatraz! The promise of $10 porn! Poop! (And did I mention sex toys…?)