bleeding for peace

Monday, jan. 20, 2003   |   0 comments

My Sidekick takes pictures! Extremely tiny, low-rez pictures! See?

Saturday Liz, Jill, and I went to the big peace march in San Francisco, and of course the second we got there, Captain Bloody Gusher made a surprise appearance. I was mid-sentence when I felt the bottom drop out of my market, and immediately my face lost all animation and took on that far-away look of someone straining to hear faint, magical music, like a fairy playing a recorder.

Liz shows off her cheek bones for peace.

“Uhhhhhhh oh,” I said, “bloody gusher.” And without another word (Liz and Jill have been through this before), the three of us turned away from the parade and shifted straight into “bathroom hunt” mode. And it turns out that not only were tens of thousands (or hundreds of thousands, depending on who you ask) of people marching for peace, they were also shitting and pissing for peace because jesuschrist, the lines for the public toilets were so obscenely long, each one was like a parade of its very own. Take that, UU Bush!

The Hyatt and its toilets were closed to non-registered guests, which was very “pro-Iraq invasion” of them, I thought. And peace-hating Starbucks wasn’t letting people use the bathroom, either, not even if you bought something. I was this close to holing up in a stairwell when we found a 24 Hour Fitness that very, very nicely let us in for the fifteen minutes worth of bathrooming it took to re-gird my loins.

Liz, me, and half of Jill holding up the whole parade to take a picture.

We joined back up with the parade and managed to go about two blocks (which took about an hour, at parade pace) before the blood overwhelmed my defenses once again, and rather than find another hiding spot, I just hopped on BART and went home and ate two tamales for peace instead.

Peace out!