ConSynPro

Departing on the Tib ferry in light rain, I headed toward San Francisco in search of a night of High Jinx. On this rare occasion I decided to sit inside instead of on-deck. Still, the distorted and dulled view of the city skyline through thick glass was gorgeous, as was the dull blob of Alcatraz plopped into the field of gray. My only complaint: there were several letters missing in the ‘Port of San Francisco‘ illuminated sign on the ferry building. I’m sure they’ll get right on that. Arriving as night fell, I strode through city streets to the 21 Hayes bus line for a tedious climb up the hill. I called NF to see if he was available for High Jinx – he was, so I continued on slowly as the bus filled with soggy commuters. Finally approaching the place, I called back, confirming the stop after ‘Lee-Ohn.’ Most San Franciscans refer to Lyon Street as ‘Lion.’ Philistines. The NF visit was brief and good – saying goodbye, I continued walking in the rain, reaching Madrone right around opening time. JC and AN were spinning records and warming things up for the wild night ahead. Soon the place was jam-packed with stylesters ready for frolic. ‘Tonight we ride with the Fellowship of the Jinx.’ When AC dropped by with a glass of absinthe, I started to sense that this night would not disappoint…