woke in slumberland

...but you were part of my dream, too.

Sunday, August 14, 2005

Midnight at the Gaslamp

Right after the San Diego Street Scene... I get off the trolley at 5th Avenue, and I'm walking back to the hostel. It's around one in the morning, and the streets of the Gaslamp Quarter are alive and throbbing. There's a small Italian place open, and i'm starved; i get a large slice of pizza in a paper bag.

I'm going down the street carrying my pizza, and i pass a huge black man on his knees, handcuffed, a bandage over his bleeding right eye. Cops are standing around him. He lets out a curse at some "fuckin' bitch" and i walk on. Scary sight; but San Diego feels ten times safer than L.A. And there are cops everywhere.

Back at the hostel, a Dutch backpacker named Jesse is checking in. Turns out we're roomies. From our window, we watch police shut down a club party across the street. For twenty minutes clubbers file out of the place and spill out all over the street as the coppers shout, "Get away, keep on walking, no stopping!"

Finally exhausted, i crawl into my bunk (a lower bunk, at a different bed) and voyage into slumberland.

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