Halloween weekend is huge in San Francisco and I’m not even bummed about having to drive a spare. My first fare is a woman going to work at 2 Sansome. From there I get a guy heading to Japan town and as I’m cruising up Sutter a Lamborghini is next to me and we are neck and neck when I notice this hot blonde giving the sports car a sexy stare and I realize this: that hot chicks go for nice cars. In Hayes Valley I picked up a rich guy and his trophy wife. They were from New Orleans and here for big Realtors convention. She in simply adored the shops and will be back tomorrow to buy a 7k chandelier. There are 25,000 realtors from all over the U.S. in SF and there are parties and dinners and such. So I pick up a pack at the Hilton going to Marriott where another is going to the Westin where another is going to the W and on and on, a quick cycle of 3 block-$5 fares. My first costume fare was a woman as a pirate and she works with realtors and says they never leave home and most got into the business because they don’t work well with people. Another realtor told me there are 644 different booths at the Moscone convention center. A woman dressed as a sexy Indian girl sat on and broke her arrow. It was getting very busy when Aqua girl yelled at me to turn off my roof light and my passenger yelled out the window for her to take off her goggles. Dirty Sanchez and the Asian guy who shuffles around Union Square with sign reading of impending doom and advertisements. Two 6’5” drag queens named Lickety Clit and Misty Slit. An Arabian character hailed me down by using a long sword and two sexy stewardesses who fell out of the sky hop in. An oompa loompah. Superman. Another Dirty Sanchez so drunk his friends had to carry him. Hugh Hefner took me out to the Ramp where a couple hoped in and proceeded to get very hot and heavy all the way to Russian hill. One guy was dressed as a package of bologna. Fishnet legged French maids everywhere. 70% of girls dressed for Halloween could be strippers. It was crazy, by midnight it felt like New Years Eve. It was packed everywhere. Juxtapositions of costumes caused me to see something new all night, like when god with rollerblades fell on his ass in front of Mr. Bings and a drunken girl scout helped him up. North Beach was a Zoo and among the celebrants you could spot bewildered realtors wondering how they got here and where their hotel was. All in all a lucrative night and not a single puker.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment