scrotum in the sand

For my Hon's birthday, her parents gave her a $100 bill. We had no idea what to do with such a sum, so we decided to be fancy and get a $30 bottle of wine, something screwcap boozebags like us never do. We wanted a special occasion to enjoy the wine, but it seemed like one never came. And then it was my birthday.

The weather was unusually warm (88 degrees in SF, unheard of in May) and we'd spent the day apart, her in the suburbs doing the Mother's Day thing and me in the city, working on a report that has an unrealistic deadline. So after an apart, we decided to have a nice dinner at Burma Superstar and then enjoy our fancy wine with some dark chocolate at Baker Beach, my favorite spot in San Francisco.

When we arrived at the beach, there was a naked guy passed out in the sand, wearing nothing but a leather jacket. Ha! He wasn't on the nude side of the beach. We picked an empty area to sit in, far away from him and others, but soon afterwards, another man in his late 60s sat behind us and disrobed. The naked aspect of Baker Beach was a reminder of what a cool & unusual place San Franciso is. But it was a bit odd that the second naked guy laid down directly behind us, just 15 or so feet away. No matter, it was time to celebrate!

The first glass of wine tasted amazing, even out of a plastic cup. It was exactly like you'd think $30 wine would taste -- full of flavor, extremely rich, dry and very oaky. Mmmmmm! We snapped some photos to capture the moment--her pouring the fancy wine, the Golden Gate bridge at dusk, my relection next to the $30 price tag on the bottle, bare feet in the sand, etc. Then, I had to hit the restroom, so I left for a moment and when I returned, I saw the naked leather jacket man sitting next to my Hon. I ran toward them, in case something shady was going on, but as I approached, I saw her laughing.

When I sat down, I commented on how grody the bathrooms were, and they agreed. Naked man didn't introduce himself but apologized for interrupting our private time but "I just want to be with other people right now." I thought I would tell him it was my birthday. I thought maybe it would be okay to ask for privacy. Note to nudie men reading this blog: Nudity Rule #1 is that it's really rude to approach two girls sharing a moment on the non-nude side of the beach!

Even though I thought about asking him to leave, I understood how signifigant sharing a moment like that could be. I figured that I would give him the benefit of the doubt, and maybe offer him a San Francisco experience--one in which you're allowed to make random friends on the beach even just to experience a sunset together. So we sat for a while, commenting on the nice weather, the collosal homes on the cliff to our left, the lives of the rich people on the cruise boat that glided past us, and the power of the waves crashing in front of us. I commented on how powerful the waves were and he said, "Every time I get in the shower and close my eyes, all I can think about is sharks."

What?

"Dammit, I wish this guy would leave so I could kiss her and drink more wine," I thought. Fuck it! I poured more wine and decided that we should just stay and sit with him. After 5 minutes, he didn't say anything too alarming so he passed the test. I poured the rest of our expensive wine into our cups.

"Got another cup?" he asked.

"No."

(I snuck a photo in case we needed future police evidence.) He told us that the cold water made him feel warm because he was "naked and free in it." He admitted he drank two 40 oz. beers plus a 22 oz. beer and a 22 oz. Smirnoff Ice. "Man, I'm a fucking alcoholic," he said. "With a capital F." Just as I started to think we should leave, the sun started to set, so I tried to focus on the moment and ignore the fact that he was telling us that he had to walk to Civic Center and then BART back to Oakland. "There are a lot of weirdos on BART. They are all stare me down, and I just stare back at them," he said.

Damn you naked, knifing crazy men, damn you all!