City With Silver & Gold_S*

I have been told from several, several mind you, somewhat reliable sources that LCD is not what it used to be. That haven been said, it sure as hell is something, that much I know to be true for certain.

I took three tabs that I’d gotten from a stranger on the street before going to watch the San Francisco Giants have it out with the San Diego Padres. I had no particular favorite but decided to root for the Giants. When in Rome.

It was in July, 2017 in what is now commonly referred to as the ‘common era’, no more of that year of our Lord crap. No, we are far too sophisticated for such taboo.

I didn’t start to feel the effects of the drug until the top of the fifth inning. Then it hit me like an orange and blue tidal wave weighing more than 732 pounds. I sank into my chair. ‘Holy shit.’

The color of the outfield turned technicolor blue while the sky began turning in whirl-pool motions. I held on tight just in case it decided to suck me up. This was some serious stuff!

I told myself that it was not real, just some crazy dream. None the less it seemed like a good idea to get the fuck out before the authorities noticed my behavior- which was far beyond control at this point.

People stood up and said things like ‘watch it asshole’ as I made my way out. That could not be helped. “Let me through for fuck’s sake!” Two could play at this game.

Finally I was outside AT&T Park, formally known as PAC BELL Park; before that it was named after the highest bidder. We’re such prostitutes, us Americans; in the United States, at least.

I wandered around back to the bay. I heard people shouting and decided to see what the hum-drum was all about. Raving lunatics could sometimes be entertaining. It turned out to be a bunch of shmucks watching the game for free at ground level. The only thing that separated us from the millionaire athletes was a chain link fence and some security guards.

The Padres were in the outfield and just a stone’s throw away. They were the enemy. “I hope you die of ebola you rotten, terrorist son of a bitch!” I yelled. An old woman turned around and looked at me in fear. “I know him, we used to go to school together…” I mumbled to calm her down. She slowly turned back and we watched in silence. Crack! A Giant hit one high into left field. “Yes, yes, yes, yes…NO!” it was caught by the Padre. Apparently my taunting was going to have no effect. Of course not, these were professional athletes after all.

After a while the acid wore off and I slipped away from the crowd. I took out my flask and sipped some cheap gin. I’d bought a pint of Royal Gate at some corner store on my way here. The Golden Gate Bridge was on the other side of town somewhere as I stared at the Bay Bridge, which now resembled the Golden Gate since they had made it into a suspension a few years ago. It was all ago and looked fantastic. San Francisco has it all now, with these almost identical looking brides- silver and gold.

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