O Hai, I'm Back 4 Today

following in the style of saturday, sunday was a rather accidental day. everything i had planned fell apart and everything i wound up doing was entirely by chance. good thing i bought a planner.

in the morning 1:00pm hour, i received texts from two people-- my little sister, and colin.

hey so ma has my money right now and she's not home, so i dono i might not make it.

nah it looks like a definite no go... sorry.

those were from my sister, not colin, and it meant i wouldn't get to hang out with her after all. sometimes i feel like having a planner has only made me more disappointed when people run into chaos that prevents written plans from playing out. but it happens.


"they're more like guidelines anyway."
but colin [former co-worker, current friend, and senior tour bus driver] texted me shortly after to say this:

mr. president, i need a tour guide for a special charter. how you feelin?

i looked at my planner, then my blog title "chaos, nonsense & tourists", and then my laundry.

fuck it.

it was that classic scene from the movies: we need a guide and you're the only one who knows all of the routes!

i called him back.

"just let them know it's going to be a bit like looking at a woodshop project before it's been sanded and lacquered. you know, it's supposed to be a giraffe, but you might think it's a llama."

i put on my old tour guiding outfit-- three-piece suit with the goofy red tie and faded red converse. but it felt wrong. so i switched out the tie for a skinny black, and shoes with my purple chucks. i don't work for city sightseeing-- this one is my own costume.


once i had the mic in my hand i was surprised at how much i still remembered. it's not exactly like riding a bike, but perhaps familiar as sex with an ex-girlfriend-- minus the emotional drama.

i think i've wanted to give another tour since the day i left the job. it was unarguably the job for me-- the best job to ever exist. i was paid to do a mixture of stand up comedy and san francisco history lessons. i loved the microphone even though it left funny black marks on my chin, and i loved the tourists even when they hated me. i loved the audience. and i loved dodging the low-flying branches of the english sycamores.

i loved it all except the management.

occasionally, i'll hop on a double-decker as a means of saying hi while being transported. and every time, the driver will joke, "why don't you guide the rest of this one," and they'll always point out the empty tip jar.

and i'd always decline.

i don't know why i finally say yes. maybe it was because my day had been suddenly freed. maybe it was because colin asked and he was always my favorite driver. and maybe it was only a matter of time before i had to give another tour. but whatever the reason, i did it.

and it felt great. the wind in my ridiculous hair, the feel of surfing 14 feet in the air, the guests interacting and throwing in their own jokes as we tumbled down whichever road. it was like dreaming that fleetwood mac never existed, and then waking up to find out they totally do exist and i have rumors on vinyl.

around the california academy of sciences, theresa hopped on hoping for a ride downtown. she used to guide tours back when i did-- but similarly found a new job-- and she had no idea i'd be guiding this particular adventure. it was a sensual coincidence.

joel drove by in a different double-decker at that moment, too. he'd switched companies since the last time i'd see him. we both double-took each other, and waved.

and for a moment, it felt like a great big reunion. colin, theresa, joel, and me. like it was. like it was without any of the problems, but all of the fun.

in the end, we split tips and i walked out with $77, handshakes and back-pats. i resisted the money at first, because i'd only given the tour to see colin and for the adventure-- but once i noticed it was quickly passing $50, i felt a fool not to snatch it up quick.

sunday, as accidental as it was, was the first day in a long while, that made this blog nearly accurate in title.

chaos, nonsense & tourists - by president wishnack: the legend, the rumor, the menace, the functioning alcoholic tour guide of san francisco.

and i still made it home in time to meet with irene, draw a few fat cats, and harass her with poems about my penis.

all in all, this was one very haphazardly productive weekend.