7 Hours in San Francisco

This past March, I spent a couple days in San Francisco for a work event (a benefit concert, but not a cool one). I landed on a Thursday and spent that day and the next being disgustingly sick- coughing uncontrollably and whining incessantly. I was a terrible person to be around. By Saturday, I forced myself to heal because I knew I only had about 7 hours to experience San Francisco. My hastily assembled plan included a quick tour of the city, concluding with a visit to 21st Amendment Brewery, to get me loosened up before the cab ride back to the airport.

Author’s note 2/16/17: Enjoy one of my “vintage” posts, from the time when I thought I’d start a beer blog but I never really wrote anything. I didn’t have the heart to use the WordPress “Start Over” feature and lose these little time capsules from when I was husbandless and childless and wish now I could tell myself to stop drinking so much beer because post-baby me would have so much trouble losing that beer pooch.

My first stop from the hotel was to walk a few blocks to the main cable car station to grab the Powell & Hyde St. line down to the bay. I really don’t understand why anyone would ever ride one of these and NOT stand on the outer step holding the railing. Granted, you have to basically straddle a stranger’s legs and plant your crotch squarely on their knee, but they were Italian tourists and I don’t think they minded. The ride was amazing, but I do suggest riding on the right-hand side; the people on the left seemed terrified that they were going to be clipped by oncoming traffic every other minute. I got to see the crooked street, the Golden Gate bridge, some other things, yadda yadda yadda (this is me trying not to ramble).

After a sort of boring walking tour of Fisherman’s Wharf, I hopped on a bus to head up to Chinatown for some cheap souvenirs and some legit Chinese food. I found a little place using Google (The Pot Sticker), and it was a promising sign that everyone inside was Asian (is that racist?). I ordered dumplings and some sake, wanting to save my appetite for 21st Amendment. Everything was delicious, and I moved on (see? keeping it short!).

I got back on the bus to head to 21st Amendment, misread the bus route, ended up having to pull the cord and ask to be let off at a random warehouse district-looking kind of area. A few sketchy blocks and I arrived!

I wasted no time in ordering: Brew Free or Die IPA and the meatloaf sliders. The sandwiches were good, not the greatest, but I thoroughly enjoyed the fried pickle! The beer was even better. My next choice was the Route 5 Pale Ale. During all of this, I pulled my signature “brewpubbing alone” move and grabbed a couple craft beer papers from the main entrance to keep me busy. But it’s hard to go to a brewpub and not make friends, and I ended up inserting myself into a conservation my neighbors were having about the previous fall’s Phillies-Giants series that ended in a Phillies collapse that devastated my region. Beer+atmosphere=friends. I finished up my visit with an ice cream float (made with Back in Black IPA of course), and made my way to the airport for the loooooooooong flight home. THE END!


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