We were driving around town at top speed in a last ditch effort to get a friend to the train station on time. He must have been having flashbacks of the Race as he kept yelling incoherent things out the window at passerby. Or maybe he was yelling directions at us, which would have been pointless because I was the only one in the jeep that knew what roads we had to take. At the outset, one thing became painfully clear: there was an unnatural amount of traffic, everywhere, in all directions...
What could cause such a thing late on a Sunday? And then we saw them.
There was leather, lots and lots of leather. Gay as well straight in various degrees of dress. Some just outright naked, some in elaborate S&M getups, wielding whips. The rubbernecking could not be helped, especially when everyone on this four lane road spied a very topless beauty just bouncing down the street. Total madness.
Time was running out, however, and we needed to get him to his train. Regardless of the booze and dope in our systems, it was imperative that we break the law to get around this mess. A few creative turns later and we were solidly on track, as it were. Speeding once again down some terrible road that was framed by an 8 lane freeway-skyway directly over head.
Ka-thunk. Ka-thunk. Ka-thunk. Never mind that.
We arrived, our friend leapt from the jeep, and he began running full tilt for the turnstiles. We don't know if the absence of a phone call meant he made it or that he was merely accosted by the man on stilts dressed up as a half-ram, half-man amalgam. Horns and all. Earlier, our friend decided it would be funny to taunt him from the car, so who knows what may have happened?
The way home was far less dramatic, as we did our best to skirt the bulk of what we figured out was the Folsom Street Fair. Nevertheless, we were exposed to two gentlemen with ass-less chaps, wandering down towards the financial district. That sight marked the end of the weirdness, at least for that particular day. And that was only last night.
