50 points
Journey To The End Of The Night by Ronald Aveling, Jeanne Marie
June 22nd, 2006 11:50 AM
The Wombat Bloodhound Kookaburras convened with the rest of the intrepid journeyers a bit after 7. I kept having flashbacks of the last time I was in that patch of grass, when we screened “A Trip Down Market Street” last September. Since we had already gotten tickets for the Nurse with Wound show at the Great American Music Hall, we knew that we probably wouldn’t be able to make it to all five checkpoints, especially with MUNI running on a weekend schedule. So we decided to go as far as we could in the short time that we had.
For the first leg, we set out across the upper level of Embarcadero Center. Ronald kept lookout up ahead for chasers, and we made a point to walk and not run (why look like a target?). We sneakily exited EC at the very end and proceeded up Clay Street. It was a steep hill, but we didn’t run into any trouble. One last push up Mason and we were safe at the Fairmont. But it was already after eight o’clock. We definitely weren’t going to make it to all five stops. After we got our signatures and had a critical rest stop, we headed out again. Before leaving Mason street, we saw the silly chasers in the tiny yellow go-cart. One was playing a recorder. We agreed that this was a good sign. Avoiding the cart, we continued up California towards the 27 line… the original plan was to take the 27 to Powell Street station, and then take Muni up Market. But the bus wasn’t coming, and we were thirsty, so we detoured to Cala to get some beer. Then it was on to Van Ness to hopefully catch a 47 or 49.
Once on Van Ness, we saw a gaggle of other players waiting at the bus stop. So rather than standing around, we cut up to Franklin. Ronald liberated a balloon from a car dealership along the way, so now we had a mascot. The peaceful evening air must have made us a bit too comfortable, for several blocks later we encountered a chaser on a bike. Ronald yelled out “hey, heY, hEY, HEY!” and he, Sierra, Jen, and Marcus all took off running. I figured I was done for, stood my ground and said “Hi” to the chaser. He gave me the nod and rode right past me, after Ronald. Good strategy, I guess. I ducked into a bus stop, nervously peeking around the corner to see the rest of my team scattering across the street. I could see Ronald’s balloon bobbing in the fading light. Sierra and Marcus disappeared. Jen got caught. Ronald met up with me and we hoofed it back to Van Ness. Soon Sierra called, and the four of us met up again at the bus stop. What about Jen? We decided to go on without her. It was almost nine, and we’d soon be heading back to go to the show. We could meet her later. Besides, she’d been caught: she was dead to us now.
After some sneaky bus-stop avoidance maneuvers and a trek through the Octavia median strip, we made it to It’s Tops and got our second signature. But then it was time to head on to our next evening’s appointment, so we called Sweetie Jim and waited for him to pick us up and schlep us to the show. We found Jen there, and gave her the last beer as a consolation prize. The rest of the night was a fog of situationist sound collage… but I have to admit that I kept nervously looking for purple ribbons in the crowd.
For the first leg, we set out across the upper level of Embarcadero Center. Ronald kept lookout up ahead for chasers, and we made a point to walk and not run (why look like a target?). We sneakily exited EC at the very end and proceeded up Clay Street. It was a steep hill, but we didn’t run into any trouble. One last push up Mason and we were safe at the Fairmont. But it was already after eight o’clock. We definitely weren’t going to make it to all five stops. After we got our signatures and had a critical rest stop, we headed out again. Before leaving Mason street, we saw the silly chasers in the tiny yellow go-cart. One was playing a recorder. We agreed that this was a good sign. Avoiding the cart, we continued up California towards the 27 line… the original plan was to take the 27 to Powell Street station, and then take Muni up Market. But the bus wasn’t coming, and we were thirsty, so we detoured to Cala to get some beer. Then it was on to Van Ness to hopefully catch a 47 or 49.
Once on Van Ness, we saw a gaggle of other players waiting at the bus stop. So rather than standing around, we cut up to Franklin. Ronald liberated a balloon from a car dealership along the way, so now we had a mascot. The peaceful evening air must have made us a bit too comfortable, for several blocks later we encountered a chaser on a bike. Ronald yelled out “hey, heY, hEY, HEY!” and he, Sierra, Jen, and Marcus all took off running. I figured I was done for, stood my ground and said “Hi” to the chaser. He gave me the nod and rode right past me, after Ronald. Good strategy, I guess. I ducked into a bus stop, nervously peeking around the corner to see the rest of my team scattering across the street. I could see Ronald’s balloon bobbing in the fading light. Sierra and Marcus disappeared. Jen got caught. Ronald met up with me and we hoofed it back to Van Ness. Soon Sierra called, and the four of us met up again at the bus stop. What about Jen? We decided to go on without her. It was almost nine, and we’d soon be heading back to go to the show. We could meet her later. Besides, she’d been caught: she was dead to us now.
After some sneaky bus-stop avoidance maneuvers and a trek through the Octavia median strip, we made it to It’s Tops and got our second signature. But then it was time to head on to our next evening’s appointment, so we called Sweetie Jim and waited for him to pick us up and schlep us to the show. We found Jen there, and gave her the last beer as a consolation prize. The rest of the night was a fog of situationist sound collage… but I have to admit that I kept nervously looking for purple ribbons in the crowd.