The flight there was ridiculous–we were delayed half an hour, and then 45 minutes, and then an hour, and then, we were still in Salt Lake City at the time we were actually supposed to have arrived in San Francisco. We boarded! We sat on the runway for another 45 minutes. We took off! We circled above the city for another 45 minutes. “Fog,” the pilot informed us sagely. I tried to stay upright, but my eyelids were falling. We got in so late, we had to cab to our hotel, at 2:30 in the morning.
I picked out our hotel online. I was unfamiliar with being a tourist in San Francisco, and everyone who had visited had stayed with me, so I didn’t know hotels. Or I didn’t read carefully enough. In the pictures, it seemed like a tiny, no-frills boutique kind of hotel, for way inexpensive, in a great location. In real life, it looked like a flophouse and smelled like a flophouse and the carpets were stained and we were afraid to walk barefoot and get tuberculosis, afraid to get into the dirty looking bed, which was not much bigger than a twin size. An adventure! Which would leave us diseased. We cut our losses. At 3:00 in the morning, we crouched over my laptop and picked out another hotel.
The next morning, we cut and ran to Club Quarters, in the financial
district–a business travelers’ hotel. Who knew business could be so
beautiful and so romantic? It was so beautiful and romantic. Rushing,
to get ready for the wedding at 2:00, starving, grabbing something on the
way, running to the ATM to pay for the cab (I cannot believe I have
to run in these heels), here’s a cab, we’re on our way, we’re going to be
so late, oh, we’re so early and the church is so beautiful and it is
perfect, for them. Like a log cabin, filled with candles and could it
be more cozy or more charming? Could it be more perfect?
It’s more perfect when D. walks in with his best men, when the
bridesmaids walk up the aisle, when you see the look on his face as H.
comes toward him. He looks at her and he shakes his head, stunned. He
is completely stunned by how beautiful she looks, and I am hoping she
always remembers that awe on his face when she’s walking up the aisle,
steps up next to him and takes his arm. The ceremony is perfect and
sweet and there is triumphant organ music, as it always feels there
should be, as they kiss and turn and head down the aisle, so happy. Now
we must say hello, hello, hello to everyone, oh my god, hello, yes,
Utah is crazy and I love it yes it’s nice to be back, god, you look
wonderful, you look so good, you look so great, it’s so great to see
you. Where the hell is the reception, again?
We drink a lot. We dance a lot. Sometimes, we’re the only ones on the
floor and people clap for us, not because we’re fancy dancers (I am not
a fancy dancer) but because we look like we are having a damn fine
time. We are having a damn fine time. E is a wonderful dancer, and he
spins me and dips me and spins me again and I am dizzy. We have to
leave too early, before the party is even close to being over. In the
cab and all the way back, I am dizzy and happy. I usually am.
Up too early, not enough coffee, come on, come on, we’ll be late for
brunch and we get there and Wade and Pie and Ian are all already
waiting in line for The Best Brunch in San Francisco, so early, and I
am glad to see them. We wait for a very long time with street theater
up and down the block, because that is how the Tenderloin rolls. I have
not seen them for so long, and it feels exactly like that. It hasn’t
been so long since I’ve seen them, and it feels exactly like that, too.
Chocolate Chip French Toast for the win.
We pack, check out, head to the Ferry Building, think about oysters,
realize what we really need is In & Out Burgers. F train over, F
train back, down to the BART, out to the airport, really another delay?
Oh, come on. We are impatient to be home. It is so good to be home.