Best Fake Tales of San Francisco, pt.5: You'll Never Guess the Surprise Twist Ending!

First. Since some asked: My tales of San Francisco are real. The pictures prove it, right? I'm just making one of my little references.

Yes. So, Saturday night I found myself leaving San Jose around 2 am and realizing that Concord was a long, long way away and that, while I was super welcome to crash at the New Awesome Apartment, all the beds, couches, bathtubs, tables, chairs, closets, and doormats were already taken by other Crush partiers, so some clever phonecalls led me to a futon at Caroline's.

I woke to discover a quite pleasant view that morning


Which was ruined by these savage beasts



I returned to Duboce and joined some of my fellow ex-Crush partiers for burritos on Church Street.



Considering that, on Friday, I had eaten such a horrible taco that I nearly didn't want to eat Mexican food ever again, I was relieved to find my burrito to be exceptional, to say the least.



At the apartment there was some serious Lazy Sunday action going on.




Why am I smiling? Because it turns out that Cameron was a total comics aficionado and there's nothing I like quite like a good comics-related discussion. Here he's getting ready to play me a phone message he had from Mike Allred, but when I first listened to the message I thought the guy in the voicemail said "This is Mike Ovitz", and that would've been another thing entirely.




Okay, maybe you have a discerning eye and have divined that these aren't photos that I took but are borrowed/stollen from Betsy's collection. Why wasn't I taking pictures? Because I was beginning to feel that sad little end of a trip feeling and new I had to get back to Concord for Sunday dinner shortly. It made me not want to take pictures, but . . .

This extremely well-composed photo was probably taken a moment after I got the call from JetBlue telling me that my flight back to New York had been cancelled because of the snow storm in New York. Or, in other words, this is a photo taken right after I found out I was being forced to spend another day in California.


And this was the last time I ever saw the Rustens. . .


I made it back to Concord and ate tri-tip and continued to try to improve Brigham-Blake relations. And I continued to take pictures of the sky and out of car windows (we were on our way to Cousin Chris' house)



The next morning I woke up and put in some good study time and then decided I wanted to visit one of the fine hamburger chains that they've got in California but not New York. No, I wanted Carl's Jr., not In-n-Out. You people all have one-track minds. Anyway, I didn't listen closely enough to my sister's directions, because this is where I wound up (first). . .


But I went back and took a right where I had lefted and soon found myself . . . mmmmmm . . . Frisco Bacon Cheeseburger.


Back in Concord I found Kristen working her kids to death in the back yard, again. She won't even give Blake proper work gloves! He has to use an oven mit!



And then it was time to really start leaving for my real flight back to New York (or so I thought). Here's Kristen, the Mustang, her house, and the "Thanks for Having Me" presents I left. A hawk pillow and a rat shirt. Who says I'm a bad guest?


That weekend Kristen and Cory bought a new Pathfinder and sold Grandpa's Mustang to a young man with a solid background. Goodbye, Mustang. Goodbye, Q Boat. Remember the first time I rode in you, all the way to Bear Valley Springs in 1992? Or the first time I drove you, on that long loop through LA County with Grandpa in 1998? Those were the days, my incredibly rough-riding friend. There aren't many 14 year old Ford Mustangs with only 50,000 miles on them.


So I drove myself to the BART station and rode the train out to Berkeley to meet up with Rebecca.







And then there I was in Berkeley, and Becca picked me up (that's what the parking lot picture means, that I'm going to get picked up) and we drove across the water to get closer to the San Jose airport.




This picture? Maybe my favorite of the trip.






We met up with Betsy and the World Famous Emily Cox at a Cuban place in Palo Alto. Why wasn't Emily at the Crush party, you might ask? She was too busy hanging out with Tobias Funke that night. For real.

Anyway, 2/4 of the diners that night didn't care for olives.


"Hey, Becca. What'd you get for dinner?" "Steak and shrimp with purple mashed potatoes and asparagus."


"Hey, Emily. What'd you get for dinner?" "Steak and shrimp with purple mashed potatoes and asparagus."


"Hey, Brigham. What'd you get for dinner?" "Steak and shrimp with purple mashed potatoes and asparagus."



"Hey, Betsy. What'd you get for dinner?" "Spicy Roasted Pork." "Well if you're going to be so difficult then I'm not posting your picture."

"Hey, Becca. How'd you pay for your dinner?" "C-Note, of course."


Then, with the travel clock ticking, we went to this Palo Alto coffee shop place to drink spicy hot chocolate.




With that taken care of, I was dropped off at the San Jose Airport and (I thought) my adventure was over. That was an idea that I had to give the thumbs down to. And maybe you know about me and Thumbs Downs.




The twist ending? Here is a letter that I sent to JetBlue late Tuesday night. You ought to take the time to read it all:

Dear JetBlue,

I recently had some pretty bad problems with your airline. I've flown
JetBlue a lot over the last 2 years and this was the first time I ever
had any problems with your service, so I know you can do better.

Over the weekend I was in San Francisco from New York City scheduled to
fly back to NYC Sunday night from Oakland. On Sunday afternoon I got a
call from Wayne Reed at your Oakland offices telling me my flight had been
cancelled because of the snow storm that occurred over the weekend and
he offered me a Monday night flight from San Jose or Tuesday morning
from Oakland. I opted for the Monday night flight.

When I got to the airport Monday night I was informed that my Sunday
night flight had NOT been cancelled and that I was listed as having
opted to fly home on a different carrier and was most definitely not on
the San Jose to NYC flight. This was a surprise to me and a bit of a
problem. I was put on standby for the NYC flight, but didn't make it
on, so I was flown to Boston and then from Boston to New York. Upon
arriving in NYC I found my luggage to be missing and, 24 hrs. later, my
luggage remains missing.

Because of these problems I missed a day and a half of law school
classes and incurred significant additional expenses. It was a real
bummer, and I really hope my luggage finds its way to me.

On the positive side, the woman at the counter in San Jose who helped me
(I wish I had caught her name) was quite helpful and friendly and made
the experience as positive as possible. She imagined that perhaps my
flight had been cancelled and then un-cancelled and Wayne just forgot to
call me, and that sounds like an easy but troublesome mistake to make.

Anyway, JetBlue, you almost made me cry yesterday, especially when I
couldn't get my belongings back. I'd have called you about it, but my
cell phone charger was in my luggage.

Brigham Barnes

I had never been to Boston before. I suppose you could say I still haven't been.


I had one of those famous Boston breakfast pizzas that morning.



And now I am done telling my tales of San Francisco. Tune in tomorrow for East Coast business.