Tag: homeless

oakland maccas..
oakland maccas.. avatar

by on Jul.07, 2011, under ramblings

When I went to America, a friend told me not to stop in Oakland when in San Francisco. He warned me to make sure to keep the windows up, the car doors locked in and to pass through as quick as possible. He said he has learnt his lesson when visiting family in San Francisco recently.

No worries I thought.

When in San Francisco I had planned to head out to Mini Mania in Nevada City which is way out past Sacramento in I guess what would be the San Francisco hills. I had hired a Chrysler 300C, which by the way is the worst car I have ever driven. Quite the shame really as I quite liked them before. Not only was it cheaply built and absolutely gutless, it was poorly maintained and had bald tyres, an unclean interior and I picked it up with only half a tank of fuel!

So driving in San Fran absolutely shit scared as I was in peak hour traffic and no bastard indicated. On the rare occasion that they did, I understood it to mean ‘get the fuck out of my way crocodile dundee! I’m fucking changing lanes and you’re in my god damned way!’

I decided I needed food. I had only 90mins of sleep the night before in Vegas and was already loaded on no-doz and energy drinks to stay awake, which also meant my bladder was about to burst.

The traffic finally died down as I was starting to head out of the inner city and on my way to Nevada City.

I spotted a McDonald’s and pulled in. I walked into the maccas and noticed a dodgy looking guy eyeing me off. He followed me inside and stood behind me back a metre or so. I ordered my meal (which was shit) and sat down to eat. Old mate dodge sat down 2 tables away without ordering, watching my quietly. I ate my food and pretended to enjoy the interior without of the maccas, hoping Mr dodge would leave. After a few minutes I decided I’d pretend to go to the toilet and hope he’d go away. I locked myself in the toilet for a few minutes thinking it was time to move and suddenly the McDonald’s hit me. My gut started to churn in disgust at the filth I’d just eaten.

That’s when I realised how dirty thee toilet was. How the bell was I going to use this thing? No amount of thin toilet paper would wipe down the seat, which was at least cleanish, but still seemed to ooze filth. The toilet was also quite high, impossible to do the girly hover. My gut about to explode I noticed a toilet seat cover dispenser. I pulled out a sheet and it was like tracing paper. I grabbed 3 more sheets. I carefully layered each sheet over the next and tried to sit down, in my urgency the paper seat covers flew everywhere. Gut starting to feel like I was being stabbed with knives I layered the paper again and slowly, gracefully sat my ass on the paper. Success. Relief.

Then came the next problem. For those that don’t know, American toilets start with a full bowl of water and this bowl suddenly seemed abnormally full, along with what seemed the unloading of 3 days of bad food in Vegas it was going to be a difficult job wiping my ass. After a lot of precision wiping, I was ready to leave, I got myself sorted out and after my toilet dramas I had forgotten about dodgy man.

Needing to stay awake I walked into the service station next door to get more caffeinated goodness. That’s when I noticed dodgy man again. I shit my pants. Not literally obviously. I grabbed me drinks, paying for them at the counter, I dashed over to the 300C and fumbled with the key fob to open the door. Dodgy man was getting closer. Fuck! Fuck! Need to lock the car doors! He’s coming straight at me! I locked the door, the car wouldn’t start. Try again, its going! Get me out of here! I lit up the types in a screech of smoke as I reversed out of the carpark and in another burst of noise and smoke I hauled ass onto the highway.

I was safe. Dodgy guy was still in the McDonald’s carpark. I calmed down, taking a sip of another energy drink, I kept my mind on getting my mini parts.

Was it Oakland? Probably not. It was probably all to do with my lack of sleep and excessive caffeine consumption. But if Oakland is remotely as scary as a dodgy guy following a scattered man, I’ll take my friend’s advice and never stop there. Ever.

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