Posted by todd
Tue, 28 Nov 2006 06:01:00 GMT
Man I love living downtown.
San Diego is a great city, with every imaginable kind of restaurant. Thai, Peruvian, Afghan. You can also find whatever ambiance suits you. Casual, Hip, Swank.... Homeless.
Lee's Cafe (5th between F&G)
I may have mentioned Lee's before... it is the hub of crazy people. If this were a video game, it's where the monsters would come out of. The spawn point if you will. All the crazies/homeless guys eat there. In fact, I even saw a guy NOT eat there. He had no arms. He came in and sat down.. grumbled a bit.. they said hi.. and he left. You know you are a cool place when patrons just come in to grunt.
It's also where *I* eat breakfast whenever I manage to eat breakfast or I'm hungover (yes yes.. I'm sure that says something). I imagine being homeless in San Diego is like having every night be a REALLY late night out, so it makes sense.
Mr. and Mrs Lee have been there for a *long* time. My theory is that they are Chinese slackers. They showed up 20 years or so ago, and excitedly opened their establishment... doing all the exciting "starting a company things".
cutting out cereal box covers and taping them to the wall as a sort of kindergarten menu.
VERY carefully pricing the items on their vast menu to some exact formula (the equation written in Chinese for added complexity).
Everything has an odd price, like $2.36. After that they said "Fuck it, putting those little numbers on the board is a bitch", and never changed the prices again.
That's Lee's Cafe to this day. The most expensive thing on their menu is a T-Bone(no relation) steak , and that costs.... seriously... $7.48. You can get anything there. T-Bone steak and smokes? 10 bucks (and 3 cents).
You can get a FULL BREAKFAST there (a guy breakfast.. 2 eggs, bacon, hash browns, toast, and coffee), for THREE DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS.
Mr. and Mrs. Lee aren't great business people. Hell, they don't really even have a sign, but they make good bacon.
It's easy to tip them more than the meal costs, because you almost feel like you are ripping them off. I mean hell, once you factor in the smoke damage, I couldn't even *make* breakfast for $3.50.
Recently it came to my attention that many of the old places in the Gaslamp have absurdly cheap leases from the government or something. Like, $0.25-$0.35 per square foot which means they need to sell like 700 eggs per month to pay the rent....
everything else
has is gravy.
I suggest you check it out. If you want company, just scream out the door like you are on fire... I'll come over and say hi.
Posted in San Diego Nutjobs. | Tags food, gaslamp, homeless | 6 comments | no trackbacks
Posted by todd
Thu, 04 Aug 2005 21:49:00 GMT
A: His sheet music had no stand! (cmon, not bad for on the fly)
Normally the nut cases are my favorites, as I've pointed out numerous times. However, the new one has got to go.
He may get a visit from the cops.. he may get shot with a BB gun.. Hell.. I might run by and grab the flute from him, but that would require lots of scotch. I'm keeping the options open, but under no circumstances will there be a one legged guy with a flute, a clarinet, and a bongo drum sitting outside my apartment at 3am playing Mary Had a Little Lamb again.
It started out innocently enough, I mean, there are lots of street "performers" around. This guy was bad, but hey, it's the Gaslamp, you aren't going to be the loudest thing here no matter how hard you try. The cumulative sounds of the area will drown you out.
Until you buy a flute that is.
I was stunned. It wasn't loud really.. it just carried.. carried through my window, through my pillow, and into my head. And he was clearly not on the road to the symphony when he hurt his leg. It was as if I had gone out there myself with a flute I had found in a gutter.
At 2:30AM I snapped and went completely ballistic. I have a common Allen trait... Once I'm mad... I'm reaaaalll mad. And this poor sap couldn't even run away.
"Hey Zamfir, F**k you! Get the f**k out of here!" was my opener.
Then I started suggesting things I might do with his flute if he didn't leave immediately, but I'll spare your innocent eyes the details.
Being a one legged crazy flutist, he didn't seem to mind my screaming at him but I think he had a hobo guardian or something because another guy came over and made him put away his stuff. I'll be watching for the guardian tonight..
Once he's out of the picture, Zamfir is mine.
Posted in San Diego Nutjobs. | Tags angry, crazies, nutjobs, street performer, zamfir | 7 comments | no trackbacks
Posted by todd
Sun, 10 Jul 2005 15:18:00 GMT
The Emergency Backup Dog
AKA: New nuts downtown.
It's been mentioned before that the big benefit of living downtown is that all the weird people are here. It's still a bit unclear to me how they get here, or where they live because it's expensive, but somehow they manage. They aren't all homeless, so I presume they must be running startup companies somewhere. It would explain a few things.
Anyway, recently I've met two new ones and given them their nicknames. The Strutter, and The Crazy Dog Lady.
I've never spoken to the strutter, he's somewhat intimidating. Picture Robert Dinero, but homeless, putting on a suitcoat when he's angry.
Rinse, Repeat.
The Strutter does this *constantly*, except there is no jacket. He just walks around stretching out his arms and looking around very cool. Then he will (I'm not kidding) pose. Like, lean up against a lamp post and make his best photo shoot look.
Yesterday he had a quarter, that he would sort of bounce on the ground mid-pose. Then he'd pick it up and sort of toss it again. He's clearly looking for attention, but the scary part is that I don't think he's looking for the attention of people around him. It's like he's performing for himself.
Someday I'm going to talk to him.
The Crazy Dog Lady is an entirely different breed *ba dum ching!* of weirdo. She's not homeless, in fact, she's a neurologist in the navy.
CDL sits outside at the bar next to my apartment every....single....day with her two terrier type dogs. Like all crazy animal people, CDL prefers to keep animals with debilitating diseases. Her main dog is "Baby", and is completely blind.
Baby rides in a baby stroller.
Baby eats Gerber baby food.
Baby almost had a stroke yesterday because CDL had her wrapped up in a baby blanket in the sun, but I unwrapped the dog when she wasn't looking.
The other dog, ("emergency backup dog" as Dave Barry would say) is actually pretty cool, although CDL says he's got behavior issues. He didn't bite, bark, or jump on me while I ate a sandwich he clearly wanted.... So I'm gonna have to take the dogs side on this one. He's better adjusted than his owner.
The most disturbing part about CDL is that she is watching me. She is trying to figure out who I'm dating, and whenever I walk by with a woman she asks me 20 questions about her. (remember, she's *always* right next to my front door)
Yesterday she asked me how long I'd been dating the girl I'm with (who has asked me to never say her name on my blog again), and when I told her she said "Oh, it's nothing serious then, you'd know by now if she was the one".
Whatever, dog lady.
She seems very, strangely, curious about everything I do. She tells me when she doesn't like what I'm wearing (she didn't approve of the cowboy hat either), and always asks me questions about the last time she saw me walk by.
I'd say she was a stalker, but she never gets up. Plus, she was here first.
CDL has "pet insurance", which apparently costs between 3 and 5 HUNDRED DOLLARS PER YEAR. She seemed to think this was a good deal, and I refrained from mentioning that she could get a brand new dog every year for much less money. A dog that could see!
As it turns out, CDL was smarter than me. She really did need the insurance. Apparently Baby's hospital bill from the previous week was 5 thousand dollars. The bill was not for fixing the dogs sight either.
No joke, she told me that Baby had been "Hit by a drunk driver".
Now as a thinking man, I had a few questions about this story.
Why was the blind dog walking around downtown?
Why was the dog, much smaller than a car tire, still hyperventilating next to me in it's blanket in the hot sun?
Was it really a drunk driver? I mean, sure, it's possible... but cmon.
Picture it with me... the drunk guy slams down his last shot of 151 and goes on a tear around downtown San Diego, where you can't get above 25 miles an hour due to traffic. Dodging hundreds of blonde women with fake boobs, our perp careens around the corner at 25 mph, and doesn't notice the small, blind dog walking in the street, and very gently hits it with the car.
Yeah, that's one possibility.
I didn't really feel like continuing the conversation, so I unwrapped the hot dog (haha!) and left.
Posted in San Diego Nutjobs. | 5 comments | no trackbacks
Posted by todd
Mon, 17 Jan 2005 14:14:17 GMT
AKA: "Hey buddy, can you spare 38.57 cents so I can get a double skinny no whip frappucino?"
I spend a lot of time in Starbucks, and I have seen a good number of homless guys come in. Standard "homeless guy in Starbucks protocol" is to either ask to use the bathroom, or to try and bum money and then start shouting about bees or something when asked to leave. Although it isn't really a Good Thing(tm), a common theme in my life is that crazy people entertain me.
At any rate, this guy clearly hadn't read the manual. He just ordered a coffee.
Being California, I had to look outside and see his grocery cart before I was sure he was homeless. I mean, he could have just been a really dirty hippy, but no hippy would be seen in Starbucks or be caught dead with a WalMart shopping cart.
That is how pleasant the weather is in San Diego. Our HOMELESS have disposable income. I'm even second guessing myself about the guys that hang out near the cruise ships downtown. I mean hey if you have no home, a cruise is really a win/win; not only do you have a place to sleep, but wine is included!
Ok, this story is done as I've drifted severely off topic and am considering the benefits of living on a boat.
Posted in San Diego Nutjobs. | 3 comments | 68 trackbacks
Posted by todd
Mon, 10 Jan 2005 20:48:51 GMT
AKA: The Bum Says, "Hey buddy, shoot me! Just SHOOT ME!"
Today I met a nice man on the street who was driven over the edge by David Spade sitcoms. When will the madness end? Unfortunately for Mr. Crazyguy I was weaponless and in a hurry, so I had no time to help him out. I had an apartment to find.
Once again I'm moving! I've decided to move into the heart of downtown San Diego, the Gaslamp. You see, as a single man my only requirements are food, alcohol, and women all within walking distance; not in that order. In my current place I was *this* close, but with one fatal error; The majority of the women in the neighborhood preferred each other over me. Not that I blame them, I prefer them too.
This time, I'm shooting for the trifecta. The Gaslamp Quarter is as metropolitan as San Diego gets, chock full of resteraunts, bars, and women drinking martinis (which we have discussed before).
Secretly, I'm moving downtown because I am a lazy, lazy man. I don't have the motivation for all this "going places" and "leaving my neighborhood". If I want a beer, I want to walk across the street and have a beer. You can't get a DUI while walking.
Like many things, urban living is an acquired taste. A few years back I almost moved to NYC, and I was up checking out the area. The limo driver who was taking us around sums it up best.
John the Limo Driver was clearly a true Brooklyn guy, and he had the accent to prove it. My buddy was trying to convince me to move up there, and asked John to tell me to leave North Carolina. John said: (imagine heavy Brooklyn accent) "Well Tad, it's just a matter of what you like, crickets or cah-horns. I went down to North Carolina once and stayed at one of those fancy bed and breakfasts. All night long all I heard was cricket cricket cricket, cricket cricket cricket... I couldn't fuckin sleep! With cah-horns I don't even wake up." Stellar advice.
These days I prefer cah-horns. If some guy is hiding in my apartment with a cah-horn, I'll find the bastard.
Crickets are sneaky.
Posted in Travel, San Diego Nutjobs. | 1 comment | no trackbacks
Posted by todd
Sat, 20 Nov 2004 02:11:45 GMT
One thing I've noticed since moving to San Diego, is that a large number of whiny protesters live here. Now, prior to living here I would refer to these people as dirty hippies; however I have come to the conclusion that they are not actually all about Peace and Love (TM). In fact they are just a bunch of vocal advocates for all things cute or made of wood.
Another thing I've noticed is that there are a LOT... A LOT of Vegans here (Vegans don't eat anything that came from an animal). I've even heard of (but thankfully never met) people who refuse to eat anything that hasn't fallen naturally from the tree, because they think that plants feel pain and cutting shit off them is bad.
The older I get, the more people I think are idiots.
A few weeks ago I the privilege of shooting down TWO sets of tweakers in a single walk. It was far and away my best performance to date.
One was a group of PETA freaks (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals), who were showing a video of cows getting slaughtered. They were just standing on the sidewalk near my apartment, and when I went to figure out why the hell someone had a TV strapped to their chest; they tried to convince me not to eat animals. Animals are yummy, so I decided to disagree with them.... Actually, I decided to tell them "Vegetables aren't food, vegetables are what food eats; go fuck yourself". The best part was they actually left! The moral of this story is that eating lettuce all day makes you a wimp.
Immediately after that I walked past a woman who I think was trying to talk to people about Christianity. After asking me "Son, do you believe in god?" The look on this woman's face when I said "No" and kept walking made my week. It was like she had just seen the devil himself.
I can't bring myself to mess with the dolphin lovers yet though, because hey, who doesn't like dolphins?
Posted in San Diego Nutjobs. | 5 comments | no trackbacks
