cat, power.

This is a long story, I think.

I went to a party in the city, which probably sounds a lot more exciting than it was, but I had a great time. The traveling crew from here to there was basically the same as the Rilo Kiley show, but my roommate C came along too. It was a packed car and a cramped, but still comfortable. We hit some traffic near the city, but all in all, the ride was pretty smooth. Our first order of business was to go to the record store and sell CDs and DVDs so we would have money for the trip. I sold a bunch of discs that I didn't pay for anyway and got a rousing $145.00! I was super excited. So excited, in fact, I bought two CDs. I picked up the new PJ Harvey, which is one of the albums of the year, and You Are Free by Cat Power. I guess I've been living under a rock, but I only got introduced to Cat Power's music just recently, and it's just socks-rocking to the max. Equally as compelling is the woman behind it all, Chan Marshall, who I really, really want to be the mother of my children.

Perhaps that was too forward.

Anyway, her music rocks, and she's earned billing as my obsession of the week; it's getting to the point where there should be some kind of plaque awarded. Maybe there should be a big end-of-year extravaganza where I award obsession of the year. But I guess that would be getting obsessive. I figure it's healthy as long as I'm not hiding in the bushes.

After the record store, we ended up hanging out at a friends house, who was nice enough to put us all up for the night. She lives inthis really nice brownstone/townhouse looking thing. It looks like it's kinda old, but in that really classic kinda way.

The house is full of cats, all of whom were friendly enough. The coolest of which was this big ol' cat who didn't really do much but sleep, occasionally wake up to look around, then go back to sleep. I envied him instantly.

After pre-partying (city drinks are expensive), we hailed a cab and rolled down to the party fashionably two hours late. Most of the people I know who moved from here to the city were there and it turned out to be a reunion of sorts. I had a great time shmoozing, boozing and spending my free CD money. There were three bands, all of which bothered me, and I strolled outside at 2am feeling pretty good about life in general. C and I were tired and hungry so we decided to head back to the house. The guy who drove us down to the city had gone back a little while earlier with his girlfriend. Our host gave us directions and addresses for her house and the taqueria down the block scrawled out on the back of a receipt before hopping in a cab with four other girls to the after parter.

C and I began wandering around San Francisco, looking for a good spot to hail a cab, which was difficult, I soon realized, because we weren't five attractive women. We made our way to a busy intersection, in front of a donut shop and kept a key eye. I was giddy buzzed and happy to be in a city again so I was laughing and being probably too loud. These two girls went up to C and asked him for directions. We, of course, had no idea where they were talking about. Then some other dude rolled up to the girls trying to hit on them. I turned my attention to flagging down a cab. No one's stopping--they were either full or don't give a fuck. I was considering diving under some tires, but I didn't think they'd stop. Dude went away, not getting any play, and then Homeless Guy rolled up and started talking to us and the girls.

He said to me, "Buy me a donut, and I'll get you a cab."

I said, "Oh, no. That's okay."

Then he said, "You can't buy a brother a donut?!" Which elicited a good laugh from all. It was a compelling argument, so I asked him what he wanted and went inside and bought him a jelly donut. When I came back, the girls were gone, and Homeless Guy told us, "Don't fuck around with a cab. Those girls went to 14th and Whatever street. Follow them and you can pick up a bus to where you're going." It was better than hanging out on a street corner.

We started walking, but we realized that we didn't know where the fuck 14th and Whatever was, and we were soon heading into a fucked up part of town. There was a car full of people giving us the finger and some dude following us who looked all sorts of wasted and we decided to turn back around toward the donut shop, trying to hail cabs as we went. No one gave us the time of day. Or a cab ride, which was really what we wanted.

We found the street that we were trying to get to and saw that we were just about 14 blocks away from our destination. C said fuck it let's walk, and, again, it was better than waiting around for a cab. There was some fucked up detour that blocked up the street and we ended up on some other road and soon became lost. If I didn't think it was so funny, I probably would have been freaked out. There was a silver lining, though. This street we ended up on was crawling with taxis. They seemed to be heading to this one club to pick up people. We went a little ways down the road before I said we should head back to that club to pick up a cab. It worked! We piled in the cab and told him where we needed to go, the taqueria just one and a half blocks away from where we were staying.

The cabbie asked us, "Have fun at that club tonight?"

We said we weren't at that club, but hanging out at a different one, and he started laughing and said something to the effect that we didn't want anything to do with the club he picked us up out in front of.

I asked, "Why? What kind of club was that?"

He said it was a transvestite bar, and that they were "hungry." It was pretty funny. You gotta love the city.

Turned out that Cabbie was the surly type, but a funny type of surly. He started going off about this "Chinese" guy who was driving the cab in front of us and saying how "Chinese drivers" were crazy. Mind you, Cabbie was zipping around corners, running through lights and getting on people's bumpers, but it was dem Chinese drivers that were the pits. He zipped us over to the intersection that bore the taqueria, and he said that we didn't want to get out there, and that he wasn't going to drop us off because he didn't have his .45 with him. Fair enough...

We had him drop us off at the house and he went on his way, but before he did, he made one more mention of Chinese drivers, but this time added, "and those Koreans!"

It was about 3am, and we were just looking to crash. It was around this time that I began to wonder about things. "I bet you the door's locked," I said. And it was. Our friend who drove us down had the key, and he was asleep inside. I called him on his cell, but no answer. We called our host, who was partying somewhere, and she said she was now locked out too, because she had given our friend the key. We sat on the stoop for a minute perplexed. C said, "fuck it. I'm getting a burrito." And that sounded like a great idea.

I was a bit wary about heading down to this intersection that Cabbie was so paranoid about. It didn't help that just as we approached, there was some loud disturbance catty corner from us. The dispute, however, drew the attention of Super Cop, who, lights on and all, zoomed around the corner to deal with it. Under cover of "the man," we hustled to the taqueria, which was seriously packed.

Every walk of life was in there: drunks, lecherous skeevers, posh homosexuals, skater kids, super rich guys, cracked out skanks, hot ass party chicks, hipsters, thugs, blue collar workers; blacks, whites, Mexicans, Asians, Arabs, Indians, undeterminable others. It was the melting pot in action. This place kinda gave me hope for the country; everyone bound more or less harmoniously together by killer burritos.

I don't know if the burrito was the best I've ever had, but at 3:something in the morning, it was the most wonderful thing ever. We walked back to the house, burritos in hand, and in no need of a .45, wondering if we'd be sleeping on the stoop. I called our friend again and got no answer. We started eating.

Five minutes later, our friend emerged from upstairs and let us in. Our host had called him also, and told him we were waiting downstairs. Success! I pounded down half of my burrito in silence and then began to arrange my sleeping quarters--a couch by the window that had belonged to the big ol' cat. I moved his bed to the floor and moved myself into its place. I was too tall for the couch, but it really didn't matter. I passed out eventually. I woke up a few times during the early morning to see that the big ol' cat was fascinated by my presence. He started on the window sill. I woke up again, and he was watching me from the back of the couch. I woke up again, and he was quite at home on my chest. He would wake up, look around, then go back to sleep. Lucky cat.

We all were awake at around 8am, and we hit the road soon after. I was suprisingly awake the whole ride home. But as soon as I spilled out of the car, I was seriously beat. I went into my room, put on my new Cat Power CD and slept till the sun went down. Lucky me!