Best. Day. Ever. (Part 3)
Posted on September 9, 2010[Continued from "Best. Day. Ever. (Part 2)."]
After a fun afternoon of pussy fucking and fisting, and ass fucking, the Viking and I made our way to the 49 Mission bus. Then we took the 30 bus. For San Francisco being so small – just 49 square miles – it can take a long-ass time to get around using public transportation. It provides me plenty of time to listen to podcasts. (Go ahead and take a look at all the ones I like. Over there to the right under, duh, “Podcasts I Dig.”)
Despite the extensive time on the buses, we still arrived to the Marina earlier than we needed. The Viking tends to be early rather than late, a very nice change from the Ex who would say, when he was already late, “I’ll be there right now.” No, motherfucker, if you were here right now, you’d be here right now.
The Viking and I had time to kill so we stopped in some stores we’d seen on our other trips to the Marina on Exploratorium AfterDark nights. Marina Meats was a meat market. Both the Viking and I like meat. Yum. We just went in and wandered around looking at the various products. The service was very good, if a bit confused by us “just looking.” Generally, a meat market is not a place people browse. When the Viking said we were killing time before dinner, the purveyor knew immediately where we had our reservations so maybe meat browsing isn’t all that uncommon.
I like meat markets. It’s fun to see the various cuts laid out ready to be cooked and eaten. When I lived in southern California in the early 1990s, I had a friend whose father was a meat cutter. She made it clear he was not a butcher, he was a meat cutter. The difference may be that he didn’t actually kill the animals. Which would have mattered to her because she was a vegetarian. Her sister was also a vegetarian. Those rebellious kids, refusing to eat what put a roof over their heads.
What’s even funnier than a meat cutter with two vegetarian children is one of those kids – my friend – working at her father’s meat market. She reeked of meat all the time, which probably didn’t make her want to eat the stuff. She told me that customers asked her how to prepare certain cuts and she made stuff up. That may be one of the reasons her father closed his market and worked for a fancy grocery store.
After the meat market, the Viking and I wandered into We Olive, a store that sells nothing but olives, olive oil, and various products in that vein. Delightfully, there were plenty of samples. There were olives stuffed with various kinds of chilies, with various kinds of cheeses, and other things that go with olives. I thought the ones I had tasted pretty much the same. There were also bread pieces that could be used to taste the olive oils and other olive-based spreads. Because we were going to dinner, I suggested to the Viking that we get the fuck out of there before we got too full to truly appreciate our dinner.
Just a few doors down was the restaurant where we had reservations. We had been to A16 before, on our first Exploratorium AfterDark excursion in February. We both enjoyed the meal, which is why we wanted to repeat the experience at least once before we move. Because we are moving … eventually.
The restaurant wasn’t yet ready for us to be seated in the dining room so we sat at the bar where we ordered glasses of wine. I had a nice sparkling number and the Viking had a lovely light red. The Viking doesn’t like white wines. I like drinking white wines when it’s warm, which it was that day.
It was so warm I was able to wear a skirt and a t-shirt. I did not wear tights or bring a sweater, sweatshirt, or wrap of any kind. This is very unusual for San Francisco, even in the summer months. The warmest months in San Francisco tend to be September and October. It’s called Indian summer, a term which may or may not be culturally insensitive and/or offensive.
Soon we were sat at our table.
I swear. True story.
[Still dinner and a "show" to come.]
Tags: ass play, fisting, SF love
Categories: True Story.
[...] [Continued from "Best. Day. Ever. (Part 3)."] [...]
08.09.2010 22:29