Herra Chinky

Timbuk2

506 Hayes St
San Francisco, CA 94102
(415) 252-9860

I feel like I have to practice Cafe-Gratitude-like self-affirmations when I enter Timbuk2.

I Am Socially Responsible.
I Am Frugally Rich.
I Am Vanguard.
I Am Casually Urban.
My Consumer Choices Speak My Lifestyle.
I Think Globally and Spend Locally.
I Support “The Arts.”
My Hip Lifestyle Is Envied.
I Look Amazing With a European Men’s Carry-All.
My Sturdy Man Bag Shows Comfort in My Masculinity.
I Am Amazingly Handsome.

Zen, people.  It’s about Zen.



Aw fuck, who am I kidding.  At the end of the day, I’m just a tool who spent $120 to look like every other hipster in San Francisco.

Beverages & More

836 San Pablo Avenue
Albany, CA 94706
(510) 525-9582

Ode to BevMo [to the tune of Petula Clark’s Downtown]:

When I was young
And my BAC was too low
I could always go
to BevMo

This magical place
Had a parking lot
off San Pablo
It’s BevMo!

When I wanted Kahlua
or Skyy or Jose Cuervo
I could find them all and more
Along the ordered aisles
of Beehh-evMo

The prices are much lower there
I drank away all of my sorrows
All of my cares
At BEVMO
My 20th birthday night
BEVMO
I was poor but felt rich alright
BEVMO
My liver is hating me now…

Bevmo…..
Bevmo…..
Bevmo…..
Bevmo…..

[cue instrumental]

Zara

250 Post Street
San Francisco, CA 94101
(415) 399-6930

I got the awesomest most plaidy mcplaidplaid messenger bag here (i’m a whore for plaid and argyle).  It holds my laptop computer (that I have to bring to work every), it has pockets for my cell phone, both outer and inner storage areas and get this - a SIDE zipper, perfect to hold my ever fashionable iPod (although I still physically can not bring myself to wear the white earbuds).  It carries my keys, my wallet, and i don’t have to hold anything in my pockets!

Sigh… I know.  I’m excited about a purse.  Shut up, douchebag.

Costco Wholesale Warehouse

450 10th St
San Francisco, CA 94103
(415) 626-4388

I’m checking out, purchasing all of my wonderful bulk products.

Me:  Do you take checks?
Costco Register Dude:  Yes, we do.
Me:  Score!  [writes out check for correct amount]
CRD:  Excuse me sir, you have to change this.
Me:  [checking amount]  What’s wrong, it’s the right amount, isn’t it?
CRD:  Yes sir, but you wrote it out to the wrong business.
Me:  I did?  No I didn’t.
CRD:  Sir, we haven’t been called Price Club in around 17 years.
Me:  Oh.

Paris Las Vegas

3655 Las Vegas Blvd S
Las Vegas, NV 89109
(702) 946-4060

Where else can you go to get an EIFFEL TOWER DAIQUIRI?!  That shit’s fucked UP yo.

We’re standing next to the fake French fountain, drinking some fake french daiquiri (out of a fake French Tour Eiffel cup, bien sur), eating a fake French crepe, and looking at the fake French village.  We see some very not-fake Midwestern couple wearing not-fake neon fanny packs, lean not-fakely together and the not-fake lady sighs to the not-fake gentleman (i kid you not) “Sigh… isn’t Paris lovely this time of year?”

LISTEN LADY - THIS IS NOT PARIS.  YOU’RE NOT IN FRANCE.  YOU’RE IN LAS VEGAS, NEVADA.

Blake’s on Telegraph

2367 Telegraph Ave
Berkeley, CA 94704
(510) 848-0886

Ahhhhhh Blakes.  Despite your scuzziness and whoredom, you and only you allowed me to basically drink away my last six months in college.

I was a senior.  I was so over “Berkeley” and all the Azns and Greeks and the “college” scene.  But I went to Blake’s one last time, to see one of my favorite East Bay bands, the KGB.  Little did I know that the KGB also attracts teenie-bopper suburban girls ages 17-19.  Man, isn’t that always the case?

Anyways, my friends Z, Brian, and I arrive there early.  We get properly trashed in the downstairs sweat-soaked bar, and set up shop near the stage.  The show was great - the KGB always puts on a good show, and there was this huge 300 pound rapper dude called Diesel that rapped over the KGB horns, guiters, instruments, etc.  Diesel rocked, of course.  He was very “Lyrics Born.”

There was a stupid blonde girl behind me, and she kept on pushing up on me cause she wanted to be where I was, and OMFG what the hell is she doing, is she throwing elbows?  WTF, dumb ho.  Towards the end, she got a little more feisty, and started pushing up on Z as well.  You see, I’m the type that has a calm temperament and I can handle other people’s blatant trashiness.  Z, however, is NOT.

The last song ends, people start filing out of the basement.  I look at Z and she is giving the girl THE LOOK.  Oh crap.  I grab Brian and we literally start holding Z back, cause she’s about to throw some elbows of her own.

Dumb Blonde Girl:  ”You want some of this, huh?”
Z:  ”Ed, Brian, seriously, this bitch is going down.”
Brian:  ”Z, stop!”
Me:  ”Seriously Z, she ain’t worth it.  We’re holding you back.”
Z:  ”Ed, let go of me!”
Me:  ”Z, it ain’t worth it.  She’s below you.  She’s just suburban white trash from Walnut Creek looking to suck some KGB cock!”
DBG: [shocked] “What did you just say?!”
Me:  ”Excuse me, did I STUTTER?”

I love that as I’m holding Z back, I’m starting some shit of my own.  We grab Z and haul ass out of the bar.  I get Z a fat slice and some water.

Z:  ”I’m heated, Ed.  Where is that bitch, I’m gonna trip her.”
Me:  ”Just eat your pizza, Z.  Drink more water.”

Who do we say come out of Blakes at that moment?  Why, Diesel of course.

Z:  ”Diesel!  You’re a-frickin-mazing!  I’m so heated right now, this god-damn white ho was all up on me, she’s gettin thrown.  Imma cut her!”
Diesel:  ”Hey baby girl.  Man, it’s all good, stop trippin.  These two big niggas here gon’ be watching your back.”

I look at Brian, who is very Chinese, is 5 foot tall, and weighs all of 100 pounds.

Me:  ”Big niggas?  Is he talking about us?”
Brian:  ”Yeah, I think so.”

I stood up a little taller, and have had a little pride in my step from that day on.  Cause Diesel called me a “big nigga.”  And that’s how I roll.

Isotope Comics

326 Fell St
San Francisco, CA 94102
(415) 621-6543

When I was awkwardly pre-teen in my sunny Southern California suburb, I used to ask my parents to take me to the Chula Vista Public Library all the time.  It wasn’t because I wanted to go to the library, but because they’d drop me off for hours at a time, and then I’d get a chance to *really* let loose.

Ok, letting loose when I was a kid meant buying a Snapple (Peach Iced Tea), eating some Baskin Robbins, and going to the comic book store across the street.  I was stealthily buying comic books like no other - mainstream, indie, etc.  The fine folks at Choice Comics in Chula Vista would hold the subscription for me, and throw in a little something extra sometimes - a deck of cards, or the newest promo, maybe even some pogs.  I’d hide the comic books in my backpack and run back to the library, go to the bathroom stall, lock the door, and happily read my comic books in the privacy of my very own stall in the children’s section of the Chula Vista Public Library.

Enough about memory lane, the point is that I was a little ashamed to be so into Gambit, Spawn, Gen13, and the adventures of Milk and Cheese.  I wasn’t into sports or cars or Abercrombie like the other “cool” kids.  So when I went into Isotope, I immediately thought, “Man!  Where has this store BEEN all my life?”

I imagine that Isotope could be that type of store, where a disaffected awkward suburban kid could go to The Big Bad City and be surrounded by people like him and who share his interests, where his shame doesn’t justify the need to hide in a stall in a public library, where he can be proud to enjoy his pursuits no matter the polarizing outside forces beyond his control.

Thank you, Isotope, for being That Store, and for making the world just a little bit brighter for kids like me.

Sizzler

665 San Pablo Avenue
Albany, CA 94706
(510) 524-1989

I think it’s cute that they now advertise “All You Care to Eat” rather than “All You Can Eat” salad bars.  I’m probably not their target clientele, as I would *care* to eat way more than I possibly *can* eat (yeah I’m a chubby bunny - AND?).

Anyways, Cynthia P. and I came down to Sizzler (with coupons, no less!) one night, and we got there maybe an hour or so before closing time.  I ordered the All-You-Care-to-Eat Popcorn Shrimp and Salad Bar.  They were slowly cleaning up the salad bar, so I was getting the last of everything, even though it was still like an hour before closing - granted, we were the only ones there.

I asked for another order of popcorn shrimp, and promptly finished that serving, and asked for another.  They said they couldn’t do it, and all I could do was put on my sad puppy face and say “Why not?  I haven’t eaten all I care to eat yet.”  The waiter told me they had already turned the deep fryers off already.  After a little more cajoling, ladies and gents, I’m sure you’re all proud to hear, I got the establishment to turn the deep fryers back on for my popcorn shrimp.

I repeat, I made them turn on their deep fryers after closing in order to satisfy my unending desire for deep fried popcorn shrimp.

I consider this one of my finest moments in life.

Sweet Tomatoes

40 Crescent Dr
Pleasant Hill, CA 94523
(925) 676-8493

Back in our college days, my friend and I would always scheme on how to get as much food as possibly without paying an arm and a leg.  This might have been our best plan yet.  We both go to Sweet Tomatoes, except only I get a salad.  When the time comes to pay, I say just for one, she’s not going to eat cause she’s not hungry.  So they charge me, BUT I have a Triple A membership, and Sweet Tomatoes has a discount for that (don’t ask me how I knew that).  Basically, I pay around 7 bucks for a meal.

We then sit in what we deem the most isolated seat in the whole restaurant.  I keep on going back and getting more food at the stations, and she’ll just eat along with me, and when the waiters come around, she’ll push the food back onto my plate.  Geniuses, I tell you.  We’re both totally full, for like 3 dollars each!  We were geniuses in recessionomics even when everyone else was experiencing the highs of the housing bubble!

Anyways, one time, we were doing our normal routine, and having our normal conversation topics (I don’t remember what exactly, but I think it involved the phrase “garbage bag full of weed”).  We’re both a very loud folk, so we don’t realize that there is a very very blonde and wholesome family of four sitting next to us.  We both get up (to get more food at the station) and this couger of a woman (think Britney Spears plus 40 years, dye job and all) comes up to us and says “You two are the most socially reprehensible people I’ve ever encountered.”  We both look at her dumbfounded and walk off.  She is shocked to see us return to our seats, both will full plates, as she thought we were leaving (she could have just looked at the card on our table, which said “Be Ripe Back!”).  We both angled our chairs to look directly at her, and never glanced away from her the entire meal.  I even did it with a smile on my face.  She was livid.  And I was proud to be an Enemy of the Suburbs.

The Cheeseboard

1512 Shattuck Ave
Berkeley, CA 94709
(510) 549-3183

I LOVE this place.  I had just come back from a study abroad program Paris, learning about the history and intricacies of socio-political relations between America and France (really, drinking lots of cheap wine, smoking way too many cigarettes, and eating way too much amazing food, but whatever).  Ah Calfornia, I was so glad to be back.

My point is, I NEEDED cheese.  I was getting cheese withdrawals.  At around 3 in the afternoon, I’d realize I was getting the cheese sweats.  Seriously, it was missing in my life.

A friend sugggested, nay, forced me to go to Cheeseboard.  So I went.  I stepped inside, and immediately smelled wet feet.  Perfect!!  I sampled four different cheeses, and purchased their cheapest brie and a baguette.  We went to Indian Rock Park, and ate the most amazing brie and bread as I watched the sun set over the Golden Gate Bridge and the San Francisco Bay, and schemed about how I was going to move to Paris.

I’m quite happy living in San Francisco now.  And I’ve found that the Cheeseboard has been a sort of measuring stick in my relative rise to wealth, from a cheap college underclassmen, to working professional.  See, I used to get the cheapest brie at the Cheeseboard.  The time I was graduating college, I was purchasing the third cheapest brie - I was moving up in the world!  When I go back now, I find myself purchasing the fourth most *expensive* brie in the shop.  One day, when I am finally a property owner in our wonderful blue bubble, I shall return, triumphant to the Cheeseboard, and order a baguette and a quarter pound of their most expensive brie.

And that, my friends, will be the sign that I have made it.