You know what time it is when that calendar hits October. It means three things: Halloween, Bridge School Benefit and Pumpkin Festival (though not in that order). Well, with the first two being two weeks or so off, the Pumpkin Festival came around again this weekend.
Waking up around 930 or so, Sis, Hessica, Murphy, ER, Finger and myself get into bloody marys. This continues as we wait for Chaz, Gavroche and Cam to show up. By the time 12 rolls around and we're ready to get into town, we're well on our way, having gone through two Js, a few bloody marys each (although I've moved on to rum and coke at that point) and been moving to Kanye. We hit the halfway stop at Cameron's and make the smoking bus bow to our demands (specifically being filled with dope smoke while we chug our beers)...we then continue the walk into town.
Gavroche and I fall off the back of the pack in order to eat a cookie...we then head into the beer garden, grab a beer each, chug it and then promptly head to the market to buy 22s of Corona (3 bottles for 6 bucks) to avoid the overpriced festival beer (1 8 oz glass, 8 dollars)...the group gets split and Chaz, Gavroche and myself wander for a bit, letting Chaz find a bathroom in a parking lot. We rejoin the group at the Half Moon Bay Inn to be told that they're over their limit and can't let us in. We literally wait like 15 minutes for the tough guy security man to let us in. Once in, we get a drink before everyone wants to leave.
The festival is packed, the artwork is all pretty cool and the police presence is minimally intrusive. In short, your typical once a year Pumpkin Festival.
By the time it's 4pm and time to go back to the house, the memories are pretty hazy. We know we're heading to Cameron's but it seems so faaar. We call drivers to pick us up there, but not before we make use of the smoking bus again, before being told by someone that works there that it's for smoking NON drugs. Oops. The 'rents drive us back where we get into the kegs and start watching football. The year of the upset continues as we throw a baseball around in the backyard, paying absolutely no attention to the games on tv.
The tri-tip hits the grill, the keg drains slowly downward and the food provides a brief respite from early blackouts, though not for all (goodnight ER, Sis). When I wake up on the couch at 2 in the morning, the party has passed me by. I have nothing to do but go back to sleep, wake up Sunday, go to Nini's and then work on the remainder of the kegs while watching football. Tough weekend.
For those that keep missing P-Fest because it's "too far," "too hard," or doesn't "sound exciting enough," I think you should work on coming up with excuses that might actually mean something like, "I'm too lame," "I'll be in a coma that day," or "I just don't like to party," because passing up a street fair that's bookended by free food and booze (and I know those two things aren't free at SF festivals) because it's in HMB is like passing on a free car because you're not really keen on the color...it might make a lot of sense to you at the time, but you're really only hurting yourself. Some of the best things in life take a little bit of work. Up next, Bridge School.
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