Embody the Drift

I came to San Francisco 48 days ago. Finally, this feels like normal life. I don't feel like I have to take advantage of *everything* but I still feel like I am taking advantage of plenty.

Yesterday, I got sucked into the wake of a large, ocean-going vessel of roommates and, with them, had a long, moveable afternoon and evening of dancing and drinks.

It started with Burning Man. One of my roommates—I have not some several—is going to Burning Man for the first time (while everyone else in SF seems to have been multiple) this year. Her camp was having a fundraiser to help pay for their expenses: you know, basic surviving in the desert for a week expenses.

That was the dancing and a little drinking. The music was typical Burner music: trance, techno, house, tech house and whatever other sub-sub-subgenres are out there now.
In back, there was a "silent disco" where people danced to music that was only audible through headphones. It keeps the noise down for the neighbors.

After a couple hours, I started to get tired—am I too old for this?—and we eventually headed back to the house only to stumble into a bar on the way.

Finally, an hour later, we got back to the house only to have 30 minutes to get ready for our next adventure: Sunday Night Dinner.

The location was a house—not dissimilar in effect to our house—but different in execution. Instead of an old crack house, 12 tech hackers live in a full-blown mansion replete with basement bowling alley.

Every Sunday, they have dinner for the masses: generally tech folks who have been around the start-up scene for a while.

I met a number of interesting people and ran into people I've already met. It's a small world, and SF is a tiny corner of it.

And the food was all vegan (the potatoes might have been only vegetarian) and actually pretty good. I could live on that.

By the end of the evening, though, I was exhausted. It was a long time with the same group of people. I could feel us developing a hive mind and while I usually resist, it was fun to just go along with it.

But then when I got tired of it, I got really tired, really quickly.

I collapsed into my bed and dozed for a couple of hours before finally garnering the strength to "go to bed." And then slept really well—according to my sleep app.

Saturday Afternoon in the Park of Delores

Delores Park is a sort of Mecca for those who enjoy park sitting, public drinking, marijuana-infused edible treats, and intense people watching.

In fact, it was in this park that I learned of the sublet which I ended up taking.

So far, I have managed to make it to the park nearly every weekend, even the weekend of 120 miles of exhausting riding.

There's an aspect of the park that almost seems magical, like it's a sacred place like Machu Pichu or Fairfield, IA where the energy meridians of the earth coincide.

Maybe it's just been imbued with that energy by countless park-goers.

All of this is to say, coincidence is abundant in the park.

Yesterday, Saturday, I was at the park with friends (of friends of friends...) and we were discussing targeted ads, specifically the algorithm that large companies use to know when women are pregnant or about to get pregnant.

We had bought some truffles from the truffle guy but hadn't eaten them yet.

[The truffle guy is a beautiful, ambiguously ethnic human being who makes and sells truffles in bronze bowls he made himself. He has really good, fun-to-read Yelp reviews.]

I've had his truffles before but never a whole one—they are super potent for someone who doesn't dabble in THC all that often.

So I bought 3 for 10 bucks.

Half hour later, none of us had tried one yet when we were approached by another ganja park vendor.

She was a less-than-beautiful, plain-white woman in her 40s and was selling ganja suckers. When we respectfully declined, she said in a nasty, almost offended tone: "Well if you like truffles, you'll like suckers."

Target marketing!

She saw our truffles, knew that we were into edibles and figured we'd be interested in her products.

This is where target marketing fails. Why did we buy from the truffle man? Is it just for the THC? Or is it also for the reputation (fame), past experiences, and the deliciousness.

The why is important.

[Also, we already had edibles; why would we need more?]