Bay to Breakers

Bay to Breakers 2011. Rad picture. Thanks, Marco.

 The past few weeks have been a whirlwind. After getting out of the plastic bubble and traveling up north for two weeks, the last place I ever expected to find myself was back in the bay. But I guess that’s what I get for expecting.

Let me preface this by saying while I grew up in Northern California, I had never experienced a Bay to Breakers. But I guess twenty four is all about firsts. Let me also say, I’m an incredibly easy sell. Like I buy juicers from late night infomercials that sit in their original packaging in my storage closet. So after a day of recovery bloody mary’s, complete with a bacon garnish, I was game for a road trip. After being picked up from the rooftop bar at the Huntley Hotel in Santa Monica, I made myself a bed in the back seat and woke up in the city. Without a plan. Without a costume. And without a clue as to what I was about to expect. But I shouldn’t expect anything, remember?

Have you experienced a Bay to Breakers? Apparently it’s a race. I’d guess it starts in the Bay and ends at the Breakers, concluding with the wildest party in the park, complete with costumes and debauchery, reminiscent of a Halloween in Santa Barbara, except much earlier in the day. Without time to prepare a costume, and after a few bloody mary’s, I was without the wherewithal to put one together. I employed plan B. Runner. And let me tell you, partying in Lululemon is the way to go. I mean, marathon day drinking is practically a sport, right? While we opted out of participating in the actual race, we made up for it when it came to the post race festivities. Unless of course, I met you at B2B. Then yes, I actually did run the race. Twice. Because I got bored after I finished so fast the first time. And I’m not wearing a medal because I gave mine to a kid in a wheelchair who didn’t finish fast enough to receive one of his own. Obviously. But back to partying. A sport I actually excel at.

Joined by two pals, one being a green crayon, Screamin’ Green to be precise, we started on Haight with shots in paper Dixie cups and cocktails in red keg cups. I wish I could say they were sparing their usual stemware for the rowdy occasion, but I have a feeling that’s always how this place operates. Super classy establishment. It was at this lovely joint where we met a perverted sailor with a sick, masochistic fetish for being whipped, a gnarly bartender with a goatee longer than my ponytail, and two gals I went to high school with. I would have never expected to run into friends amongst all of this chaos, but there I go expecting things again. And I’m sure glad I did. I wish I could say the others were unique to Bay to Breakers, but I have a feeling they’re always there too.

With our growing group we headed down the street. And when I say we headed down the street, I mean we followed a boom box parade led by my little green friend to our destination. It was here we narrowly escaped a bathroom brawl, met a few Elvis’s [is the plural of Elvis Elvi? Hmm.], chatted with Dotty and Kit of a League of Their Own, and drank out of actual glasses. Our B2B drink of choice? Jameson and pickle juice. I know, but remember when I said I was an easy sell? And if you can get passed the vomit factor, it’s actually quite an unusual tasty treat for your senses. After a quick stop at a beer garden, we wrangled a sober red bull rep into giving us a ride to the marina where our group doubled in size. With Screamin’ Green leading a bar top dance party, we worked up quite an appetite. See, partying is a sport. After eating about 12 slices of pizza, we continued at Matrix Fillmore before reconvening at a friends house, falling asleep, and hitting the road in the morning. Phew. That was exhausting. Thanks for driving, Alex. And thanks for leading the mission my little green crayon herself, Sedona. Let’s please bring your costume back for round two next year?