Looking for Muni in the Dark

Anneli and Geri have rented a car and are off down the coast to Monterey, Carmel, Big Sur and possibly Hearst Castle, for a few days. So Plot and Duck have the weekend to themselves and today the Phoolies are in Stiletto for a day game.

Plot finds himself, strangely enough, not as hyped up for this playoff series as the one with the Kurds. He thinks his team is better but they could win or lose and his world will not dry up and blow away. The Phoolies are not the Braindead Caribbeans. When the Braindeads beat the Plotzers, Plot feels it.

Having guests in the house means remembering what it's like to be a traveler, living out of a rucksack. These two always smile, and are interested in everything. That's the way to be when you're on the road. Accept what comes along and revel in the good parts.

They loved the Alcatraz tour. They loved eating fish on the Wharf. They even loved telling the story of their cable car ride -- two blocks only, because there was a fire at Tiffany's on Union Square, everyone had to get off the cable car and service was stopped.

Last night they had a MUNI horror story, as they attempted to get home from Fisherman's Wharf at 9pm. They thought they could take the 49 Van-Ness, like they did to get down there earlier in the day, but they discovered they could not find the correct bus stop in the dark.

Everyone they asked told them something different. When they finally got on the bus, it was the wrong bus, the 47 instead of the 49, but it was so crowded they couldn't get to the bus driver to ask a question, and they couldn't see the overhead announcements. They eventually rode all the way to the Transbay Bus Terminal, and had to figure out where Market Street was. Again, all the wrong information, MUNI bus drivers who wouldn't answer them, riding the wrong way on the right bus or the right way on the wrong bus, and many people trying to be helpful but most of them totally misinformed.

Sure, they could have phoned, but these two like to figure things out for themselves. They did get home, eventually -- closer to midnight, but with a story to tell their friends. The four of us drank a glass of Frivolo and listened to their adventures, as Plot and Duck felt the Chile/Patagonia bug rising again in their bellies.