Night of the Slurpcast

I should have known better than to poke fun at Mr. Bernay. In a Facebook entry made by Wes I claimed “Mark Bernay is a slacker!”. Well I was soon admonished. I told him meekly that I would retract my statement. Long story shortened it led me to agree to be a guest on his and Wes’s slurpcast which would take place at the CPK on 3rd street just off Market in San Francisco. Our designated time of arrival, 6 PM.

I decided to take BART. I believe the last clear memory I have of being on BART was when I lived in San Francisco. I took it to go through the tunnel under the bay. Other memories surrounding that experience are gone, though I vaguely remember being with Steve Lee on that journey. But as that was over 30 years ago you can excuse my lapse and be amazed that I can still remember anything from so long ago.

On a sheet of paper I recorded 3 departure times from Fremont to San Francisco. I also recorded 3 for the return trip. I left in time to make the first but traffic conspired to delay me and I barely made the third. Also a bit nerve racking I did not know how to procure a ticket and the BART I needed pulled in just as I arrived and was looking about trying to procure a ticket. A machine that accepted credit cards and would print a $20 BART ticket was my answer and I used it to enter the gate, go up the escalator and manage to board on of the 9 cars just before all the doors shut.

The trip to San Francisco was mostly uneventful. The cars were showing their age and moaned audibly in screeching metal wails. The crescendo and cacophony of their concert climaxed in the tunnel under the bay as my ears kept popping in attempts to equalize the pressure in my head with the rapidly changing one in the cars.

I exited at the Montgomery station and smiled at a tall African American who was singing in a low bass for money. Large white pearly teeth greeted my smile as I passed and he nodded to my nod in appreciation of his voice. Up two escalators and a set of stairs and I found myself near Market. The cold air was a frigid blast that instantly threatened to freeze my lungs solid. One block away on Market is easily a half mile walk. Needless to say Mr. Bernay admonished me for being late. Fortunately Wes was even later; so late we ordered and only as our appetizer arrived did he finally show up. This being after several texts and phone call from Mr. Bernay. “Bah Humbug!” Mr. Bernay dismissed the feeble excuses that Wes was mumbling while attempting to calm an obviously displeased demeanor.

(to be continued…)