The Viking and I decided on Friday that we’d check out the 2010 SF Street Food Festival the next day.  I had been the year before, but thought we’d already be in Chicago by this time so I didn’t bother to talk it up to the Viking.  It was the Viking who said we should check it out since it was close to our place.  I agreed, but only because the information about the festival indicated the festival would be covered by more real estate.

When I went last year it was packed.  Packed to the point of annoyance.  I was with a guy I rather liked, but standing in line just to get $6 worth of snacky food, was annoying, even if the conversation was pleasant.  The problem last year was with the lines.  The vendors’ booths were arranged in the Mission on Folsom Street in the high 20s, which was closed to traffic.  People lined up at each of the booths, straight out to the sidewalks.  That meant there were large areas between each of the lines that were not usable for cross traffic.  If anyone tried to traverse the street through the lines, there were pissy looks and other expressions of attitude.

I told the Viking all of this.  We agreed to go check out the various vendors as early as possible, when the festival opened at 11am.  We even printed up a map of the vendors and agreed on which of them we wanted to visit.  The Viking was especially interested in tasting the goods from Liba Falafel and Ritual Roasters.  I wanted to go to the Nombe and Roli Roti.  We both were interested in revisiting Kung Fu Tacos – which we had tasted at the last Exploratorium AfterDark – and both Kika’s Treats and Claresquares – local (to San Francisco) purveyors of yummy shortbread-based sweets we dig, a lot.

I woke up around 11:15am, well after the time I should have gotten up if we wanted to make it to the festival by its opening, at 11.  Dammit.  The Viking says I look sweet when I sleep so he is loathe to wake me.  I dressed quickly and one of us took Isis out for a final potty break before our outing.

It was too late; by the time we walked the few blocks down Treat Street, the Street Food Festival was inundated with local hipsters, stroller-laden families from Noe Valley, and bridge and tunnel hopefuls.  It was not our scene.  At all.

We walked through a block of the festival, but not before I saw a guy I had all but fucked.  I said a quick hello and then walked on.  The Viking and I were holding hands and I figured it would have been beyond awkward to do much more than that.

We had already planned to go to a local hardware store after we’d gotten our fill of food at the festival; the fill just happened well after we had planned.  We walked past the food festival and to the hardware store where we bought a power strip.  Why did we need a power strip?  Because I’d had trouble plugging in my bedside light, my new iPhone (courtesy of the Viking’s need to have all the latest Apple products), and my Hitachi Magic Wand all in one outlet.

We bought a power strip and laundry detergent.  Considering we’d left our place planning to eat at the food festival and had not eaten anything, we were both hungry.  We decided to go to St. Francis Fountain.  The Viking liked that they had waffles.

We’ve agreed that once we move we’ll get a waffle iron.  We both love waffles, maybe I more than him, and agree they’re better than pancakes.  The Viking is so sweet that he wants to make me happy with waffles.

To be continued ….

I swear.  True story.

Categories: True Story.

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One Response

1. Food Fail (Part 2) « Random Rim Jobs:

   [...] [Continued from "Food Fail (Part 1)."] [...]

   25.08.2010 22:34