The 1st Annual San Francisco Street Food Festival was literally happening right outside my front door! Suffice to say I was pretty stoked to eat some pulled pork and corn on the cob. So stoked in fact that I lounged around in my pjs reading comic books for a full 2 hours. I exited my front door a mere half hour before I had to be at work thinking that I would catch a quick bite before heading to the cheeseshop. I had never been more wrong in my life.
Not only were the lines 20 people deep for the individual vendors, but there was a META line stretching all the way around the block. One had to stand in the meta line for upwards of an hour before one could even choose a vendor line to stand in. Madness.
So, suffice to say I hoofed it away from that crazy scene as quick as I could. It took me 10 minutes just to get to the end of my block. I thought I would catch a quick chicken milanese at the corner taqueria, but that was overflowing with stragglers such as myself. Even good 'ol trusty El Metate had a line out the door. In my blind hunger and dwindling time frame I attempted to find the little walk-up window that serves eyeball tacos, but to no avail. Turning back on to Folsom Street I came within inches of ending a pigeon's life.
It was 3PM. I was scheduled to cut cheese at 3PM. So, tail between my legs, I stopped by El Faro (one letter away from Farto) for a shitty overpriced torta and that was that. I was later, fuller, and wiser then I had been at the start of the day.
The entire episode reminded me of the beginning of Buffalo 66 but with lunch in the stead of wizzing.
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