Thursday night around 10 pm Kelly, Monica and I were the only ones home, Kasey left to meet April at the airport, who was coming from NY. Someone started banging on the front door of the apartment building, which is directly below the living room. It continued for the next 10 minutes - a man yelling and screaming, which turned into crying, while relentlessly pounding on the door, then something hit the front window. The building has been broken into a few times (before we lived there) so we were too afraid to look out the window or ask who was down there. Monica called the police. After a few minutes of listening to him fight with them, calling them idiots and cussing them out we realized it was the crazy upstairs neighbor, Zeo. Yes, Zeo...who has been arrested a few times, gets into domestic disputes with his boyfriend at crazy hours, and crashed his truck into the garage door while driving drunk (in the middle of the day), leading to the complete absence of a garage door for three days. They finally believed that he lived in the building and had locked himself out - and we did not feel bad about it.
Friday night we all went out to a bar in the mission district. My knee and back were killing me from walking all day, so I sat down at a table. I had my crutch with me and a guy I did not know came up to me and asked if I had a peg leg. I told him I was sorry to disappoint him, but that no, I did not. He said he had to make sure and proceeded to feel both my feet with his hands. I was so caught off guard that I just played along. Next, in response to asking why I had the crutch, I spun an elaborate lie about getting hit by a car downtown. It was not my intention for it to be such a long conversation, but he was insistent. This is the conversation that ensued: "GUY: where did it happen? ME: I can't remember. GUY: How do you not remember? Were you knocked unconscious? ME: Ya I was, but I think it was somewhere around 3rd or 4th and Market. GUY: 3rd or 4th and Market? Do you work down there? ME: No. GUY: What were you doing down there? ME: Shopping. GUY: How did it happen? ME: I was walking across the street and someone ran a red light and hit me. GUY: Oh so you totally had the right of way...it was not your fault? ME: Ya it was the driver's fault. GUY: Did he hit anyone else? ME: No...there were other people in the crosswalk, but I was just the lucky one. GUY: Wow that is crazy!! Well, this is the most important question...did you leave a mark on the windshield?" Finally I got away from him and had a good laugh. But it was a pretty small bar and ran into him a few times. He would point me to me and say "Hey!! Be careful." I've become pretty skilled at fabricating lies in response to the "why are you on crutches" question.
Saturday was the wedding, the ceremony at a church in Dublin and reception in a Veteran's Memorial Hall in Pleasanton. We left San Francisco on time, but got completely lost. Apparently there are two streets with the same name near each other and we of course took the wrong one, ending up in a residential area 10 miles west. April and I both quell the initial panic with "oh no problem... no need to worry, we can just use our phones to find the way." This however did nothing more than to make snobs out of us. The overconfidence in our (I'll say it) toys only getting us more confused as we both barked out conflicting directions. Meanwhile, 20 minutes remained until the start time and the stress level in the car was palpable. We pulled over asking people if they knew where the church was located, no one could help. April called 411 for directions, which were also wrong - The agent told us to make a right instead of left off the freeway, costing us even more time. We finally arrived at 2:00 - the ceremony was supposed to start at 1:30 and we were sure we missed the entire thing. They all ran from the car to the church with me trying to quickly hobble behind. Luckily it started late and we missed the first 5 or 10 minutes, not seeing them walk down the aisle or hearing his vows.