Last night I had the pleasure of being in the general vicinity of Valencia's crazy guitar player. You know who I'm talking about; he looks like Animal from the Muppets, stands in the doorway of the Social Security building at 22nd and Valencia, and yells about the sin of homosexuality while playing the guitar. Anyway, I was sitting outside of Latin American Club discussing the difficulty of quitting drinking for 10 months. Suddenly, he pops out of the neighboring laundromat screaming into the air, “I KNOW YOU ALL WANT TO KNOW WHAT A DIRTY HOBO IS DOING IN A LAUNDROMAT! I'M JUST GETTING CLEAN. I SMELL LIKE TIDE NOW!”
After listening to him ramble on for a few minutes, he made is way up to Valencia and we resumed our conversation. “It's pretty easy to not drink, but most holidays are difficult. Birthdays, Bay to Breakers, Boxing Day… everybody just assumes everyone is getting drunk. The Fourth of July is the worst…”
Now the hobo Muppet had to have been a solid 20 feet away at this point, but he abruptly turned around, approached the table across the way from us, and started yelling hysterically: “THIS ISN'T THE FOURTH OF JULY, IT'S THANKSGIVING!”
Ears like a bat.