My Acci-Date with Occupy San Francisco

See, it doesn't even need a subtitle. This story is (hopefully) about as political as I get on here. Ah, Occupy San Francisco - a rag-tag gang of people who haven't showered, camping outside a Wells Fargo, begging for money with Starfucks cups (I wish I was making this up). And oh, the signs! Ranging from economical fact to this...

Ok, not exactly THIS sign but pretty close...

Regardless of your opinion of these idiots patriots people trying to protest for something, for most San Franciscans just trying to go to work in the Financial District, they're just a nuisance at worst and a freak-show at best. I was leaving work after a particularly pain in the ass day and didn't want to go home yet. So my fabulous friend and I decided we needed something that made us think of being kids again - Slurpees (yeah!). Coincidentally, the 7-11 was outside the remnants of what was occupy San Francisco for this particular week. It's the ebb and flow - they come, set up tents, shit everywhere, get kicked out by the cops at 3 a.m., go sleep in Golden Gate Park for the night and come back  to set up camp again the next day. Sunshine and I stood on the corner in our business-type outfits, drinking our Slurpees (Wicked Apple bitches!) and thinking of ways the cops could stop the "protesters" from coming back (pressure washers, attack dogs, blasting Kenny G at large decibels?). 

Could this man clear out Occupy SF? All signs point to shit yes!

Suddenly, Sunshine (who even as a gay man, has incredible straight-dar) notices a dreadlocked, scruffy blond guy about my age staring at us. Not glaring at us as the rest of the homeless looking, eating four day old Taco Bell, unemployed kids in his brethren were. "Oooohhhh, hell yeah! That blond is a dirty bird, I can tell. Go catch a ride on that!" Sunshine said without irony. I looked at him and had to ask "is it just you, or do all Filipino men have no standards?" He smiled and slapped me on the back, "Ha! I only date successful black dudes. Now go talk to him, I'm going home to my sexy boyfriend. Bye spinster!"

My bitchy, overtly honest friend was right - there's no reason to be a snob. So I headed into the madness...ok, not really. There were only like ten people hovering around by this point and 60 cops. I wasn't exactly in mortal danger or anything. Dreadlock guy immediately busted my chops, "Are you lost or an undercover?" I looked around for a second trying to think of something smart-ass to say. "Would an undercover cop have a fucking Slurpee?" Hey, the answer could be yes - I don't make it a habit of keeping company with the 5-0. This got a laugh from Dreadlock guy and only Dreadlock guy. I think I finally have an idea what it's like to bomb at a comedy club. I smiled at Dreadlock guy, "I'd really like to understand what this is all about since I can't get a decent explanation. You interested in grabbing a burrito and helping me out?" He didn't even bother to look at his friends, "Of course my lady" (said in a pretty good medieval accent) "lead the way!" As he offered his arm for me to take, I hesitated for a second (was that shit on his coat?) but I quickly gathered my wits and took offered arm as we walked down Market Street to the catcalls of "sellout!" by his friends. In that moment I realized that faux-hippies can be douchebags too. Maybe Occupy should move to the Marina....

First thing I realized about Dreadlock guy was that he smelled really nice. He caught me sniffing him and laughed, "the clothes are stained, not dirty". So thus begins my evening of repeatedly feeling like an ass. Second thing: he was smart...like wickedly intelligent. So much so that he was able to give me the very first clear idea of what Occupy could be about. Unfortunately, I was so distracted by this complete contradiction of everything I knew about the movement and people in it that I cannot remember a damn thing he said. All I remember saying was, "If someone like you led this group, you could actually get something done. How in the hell did someone like you end up here?" He told a sad story of going to U.C. Berkeley but not having the money or the means to finish school and realizing that during the recession a college degree was essentially useless and thought this was a bigger fight. But he also agreed that the movement needed better leadership. It was one of the best conversations I've ever had and made me realize that I can be a complete elitist moron.

We finished our burritos and walked arm-in-arm down Market Street as he told me the history of the buildings. Right before we arrived back at his camp he stole a very nice kiss and I knew I wanted to see him again. "You wanna go wander around the library tomorrow after I get off of work?" And right there, I saw it in his eyes and I realized it too - we were WAY too different for it to ever work. He squeezed my hand and smiled at me, "you know we'll never make this work. But this was still the best date I've ever had. Thank you for actually listening. If things were different..." I understood but it still bummed me out. I gave him one more kiss and he walked me safely to the Muni. Of course, the first total gentleman I've ever gone out with has to be kinda homeless.

This was a great experience and I had a second where I thought hey, I could quit my hated job and live in a tent city with a gorgeous protester....but then I realized the dreadlocks would eventually piss me off and I hate hippies, especially fake ones. So I quickly let that idea go - it's just not me, no matter how much of a romantic I can sometimes be. Still, I like getting schooled and learning that the world is larger than me. That even I, Captain Jaded can still be surprised. It takes all kinds Beavis, it takes all kinds....