The Day of the Jackhole

The Day of the Jackhole

Celebrating 40 years on this earth

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I’m on my way to San Francisco getting ready to catch the California Zephyr. Without looking at a map, I book a hotel. It turns out to be smack bang–smack being the operative word–in the Tenderloin. I check in to the hotel then wander out to get dinner.

In the space of three blocks, I see two drug deals and am asked if I want to buy some crack. Why can’t some random person on the street come up and ask me if I want to buy a sandwich? Because I really do. I’m starving.

On the way back to the hotel, I have much the same experience. I lock myself in my hotel room and decide not to catch BART out to Oakland in the morning to save money, lest I get murdered. Getting murdered is not on my itinerary.

The Zephyr sweeps in and lives up to its name. On this wind, I drift.


Born in 1971?

Share a story about something that happened to you in 2008 in the comments.

2008. Take the tender out of Tenderloin.

September 4, 2011

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