Due to an accident in Pacheco Pass, I can’t enter San Francisco via Silicon Valley. Instead, I have to enter through the Castro Valley and East Bay. The question then is which bridge will I cross? Will I use the OG and the second-most iconic in the Bay? Or will I use the Hayward, and drive by SFO?
Well, neither actually. I’m going to pop by one of my favorite sandwich joints. This place is so good, I’ve spent most of my life looking for a place that can hold a candle to it, and so far the closest second is still lost in the proverbial crowd.
As I cruise through the quaint little town in the heart of the interior Napa Valley, I drop the windows and take in the atmosphere. Despite the archetypical Bougie/Aristo vibes I usually avoid, I feel it rather appropriate to blend in this crowd because I’m a tourist today, even though I am by all accounts in this bracket.
Nevertheless, when I roll out of Napa with my sandwiches in tow, I decide not to use the Bay Bridge. Open up the Golden Gate, ‘cause I haven’t used it since I was a wee.
I hang in the right lane and take my time crossing. The concrete barrier for dividing traffic is right down the middle, as we’re still about an hour from rush hour.
The toll plaza is on the San Francisco side, so as soon as we reach the end of the bridge, I pay the expectedly expensive toll and debate very briefly over whether I want to walk it. Ultimately, I decide against it so I can stay downtown.
I have a few properties in San Francisco, one of which is just outside Chinatown. I’m here to clear my mind, and I don’t want to deal with the hustle and bustle of Lombard Street or the inconvenience of being on the wrong side of the city if I had stayed at my property closer to the Presidio.
Now that I’m here, I can do things on my schedule, whether I want to sample street food in Chinatown, take in the sights and smells of Piers 39 & 45 and/or Fisherman’s Wharf, or go shopping in… Union Square?
Who am I kidding? I don’t go shopping. I see what I need (and might like), and buy it.
So, with at least a weekend in one of the most iconic cities in the world, I make a list of places to go and things to do. Unfortunately, like in Hawaii, when it comes to travel recommendations, I never hesitate to find a good eat, way ahead of other activities that most other people look for. In cities where I am a pseudo-local, I’ve gotten to a point where I personally know what I like. Some cities I like to do activities more than eat, but again, it depends on where I am. I’m not an outdoorsy or adventerous person. I live vicariously through my palate, and I’ve done all the tourist traps, though I haven’t visited in quite some time. Plus, this is my second city.
My mom’s family hails from the Filipino community in Chicago, and I was born there, as I’ve frequently mentioned. However, my dad’s family hails from the very large Filipino community here in San Francisco. After the way they treated me, how could I take up residences in a city like this? Well, only one of them remains here, and she’s on her way out pretty soon. Besides, I love San Francisco too much to even have it clouded or marred in any way by the family especially because most of them live in SoCal. I’m more likely to get spotted at home than anywhere else. The lone exception was the cousin I saw in New York, the same one who always vouches for me. His sister, the one who called me a waste of blood and organs in her vitriolic texts, is the last remnant of my biological family in San Francisco.
As I said, I have some things on my to-do list, and if I play my cards right, and get lucky with rides, I can knock them all out in one day.
Up at 5:10 am for whatever reason, I drag my feet getting ready for the day. Breakfast however is not in the city. My favorite breakfast place is down by SFO, and has been known to boast lines, but not as bad as any of the joints touted in the city that are admittedly not up my alley.
So, with a nice cold start, I somewhat impatiently wait for all the electronics to boot up before pulling up the sat-nav screen. I enter the destination just in case I forget my turns close to the restaurant, and I slowly make my way out of San Francisco, admiring the now-barren but soon-to-be crawling highway 101.
When I arrive at the restaurant, I park in the rear as a few families are already queueing up outside. Sadly, this places me 4th in line, ahead of parties sized 5 or 6.
Due to the layout of the restaurant, I’m at a small table right next to the entry door and hostess desk, convenient for exit but not so for the wait staff. Nevertheless, coffee and a glass of orange juice start me off while I ponder my options.
At meal’s end, I return to the city, park at home and go for a late-morning walk on Pier 39. Here well before most of the influx of tourists and locals alike, I put on my music and set a timer for 90 minutes.
Admittedly, Pier 39, nice as it is, is rather small and doesn’t make for much walking, but that’s why I parked at home. Pier 39 isn’t that close to Chinatown, and the route I chose required me to negotiate some of the hills by which the city is famous. That’s a workout in of itself, but I know I could definitely use the activity, light as it may be.
Following the shoreline, I go from Pier 39 to Fisherman’s Wharf. Two of my favorite restaurants are here, and incidentally, one of them is my favorite lunch spot, and the other is one of my favorite places to eat dinner. My lunch spot doesn’t sound too bad right now, but I’m not really hungry, even though I ate at like 7:00.
As I explore the markets of Fisherman’s Wharf, almost ready to begin yet another day of operations, I should probably head to my next destination.
Just as I return home, I head into Chinatown and find a local favorite to enjoy some dim sum.
A small bite to eat just so I don’t get hangry, I return home, and am a few steps outside the dragon’s gate, when a familiar voice calls out to me.
“Max!”
I check on all four sides, but don’t see the voice, so I head for home and hope that we don’t lose each other.
As my house is only a couple blocks away, I reach my front yard to see the figure just catch up, surprisingly not out of breath, yet equally relieved to see me.
“Max!” Rarity shouts as I unlock my car.
“Hi Rarity.” I smile as she comes up to me and opens her arms. “What’re you doing here? I thought you’d be back in White Plains.”
“Sassy Saddles is sick, so I’m covering for her.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s unfortunate, but at least I was free for a few days.”
“Do you need additional help?”
“No, no, darling. That’s okay! I appreciate the offer though.”
“Of course, happy to help. So how’d you find me?”
“You aren’t exactly inconspicuous, darling.”
“Wasn’t trying to hide.”
“I would certainly hope not. You had us all worried sick!”
“I appreciate your concern, but I’m kind of beyond caring.”
“Oh cheer up, darling. Let me treat you to something!”
“I appreciate the thought, I really do, but I just came from the Bridge, so I’d much rather be alone right now.”
“Whatever do you me…” She cuts herself off then gasps loudly. “Max! I cannot believe you would…” She stops her sentence and sighs, “why didn’t you tell any of us?”
“I‘ve been playing the victim ever since I met you. I’ve done nothing more than burden you and make your life hell.”
“Darling, the last thing you need to be right now is alone.”
“Obviously. That’s why I kept to myself.”
“I wish you had reached out to one of us.” She says grabbing my hand.
“I’ll be fine. I was just about to head inside. May I offer you a ride back to Union Square?”
“Yes please. I want you to stay with me.”
“Are you alone?”
“How dare you!” She exclaims as she smacks my arm.
“If you have company, I don’t want to rouse any suspicion.”
“Yes… I am alone. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I would’ve raised my eyebrows at that remark too.” I say feigning nonchalance to try and get into the car.
She blocks me and says,
“Please Max, stay with me. I don’t want you spending the night alone.”
“I’ve spent a few nights alone already. Tonight should be no different.”
“Max, there is no way around this. You are staying with me and that is final.”
“All I’m saying is that if I walked away from the Golden Gate Bridge after several nights alone, I’m sure I’ll be fine for this one.”
“Okay, Max, you’re really starting to scare me.“
“You know what, I won’t argue. Get in.” I chuckle unlocking the driver’s door.
“Thank you.”
“I just need to grab my things from my house, then I’ll join you.”
“Oh no! You are not going anywhere alone!” She responds tugging on the door handle.
“Raleigh, Durham and Charlotte, you sound just like Applejack.” I say as I unlock the other doors.
“That should work in your favor, seeing as you like her so much.” She says as she gets in.
“Where did you learn that?” I ask shutting the door and suppressing rage.
“Don’t play stupid with me. We all know.”
“Of course you do. Everybody knew I had a crush on Applejack, and despite being happy where we are, I’ve been fighting almost every urge to want her as more than a friend. I’ve spent nearly our entire friendship quashing feelings of attraction, not only to her, but also to all of you. Whether or not they’re romantically motivated, I still get can’t get over how much I like you all. It destroys me from the inside knowing that my feelings for you no matter how hard I try will always be there, and I fucking hate it. Why else would I want to jump to my death?” I seethe back as I turn the engine on.
Before I can put the car in gear, Rarity grabs my hand and utters “Max…” sorrowfully.
I retract my hand angrily, put the car in gear, and head for Union Square.
We exchange no further words until we reach her place.
“What are you waiting for, darling?”
“I forgot to grab stuff from home.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Not after that whole Applejack thing.”
“Max, I’m really sorry. I had no idea.”
“It’s fine, I didn’t think you’d know. I just… want to be alone right now.”
“How will I know you won’t go back and… try again?”
“Guess you’re just gonna have to trust me.”
Back at the penthouse, I sit on the couch and say rather rhetorically,
“You know, a lady need not associate with a suicide survivor. Wouldn’t be very… becoming of her.”
“And what kind of friend would I be to leave you like that?”
“A friend who respects boundaries and honors her friends’ wishes.”
“I was just doing what I had to do.” She says sternly but softly.
“Yeah, that totally sounds like something you would do.” I lightheartedly snap back.
“Max, if you’re so resistant to staying with me, would you like to leave?”
“I never said that. I didn’t even get to the good part yet.”
“Good part?! What’s good about attempting suicide again right after recovering?!”
“You’ll be pleased to know that the survivability of that kind of gunshot wound is less than one millionth of one percent. Obviously, there’s a better method to ensure success. Jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge for example. If you survive the fall, then you have to battle drowning and ice cold bay water!”
“Max, stop! I am this close to putting you on suicide watch.”
“Ha! More like suicide warning.”
“That’s it! We’re done!”
“Aww, did I push you to your breaking point? I’m sorry. I’ll see you in San Francisco.” And with that, I grab my things and head for the door.
“Split Scimitar! For the love of Celestia, please listen to me!”
Shocked, I turn around and drop my bag.
“You said ‘Celestia.’”
“Yes. What is your point?”
“You’re not the Rarity I know.”
“Am I?”
“No. You’re a pony. Equestrian Rarity.”
“W…What makes you say that?” She sputters nervously, a blush slowly creeping up her cheeks.
“The Rarity I know would’ve already dialed 911. The Rarity I know would be enjoying a pint of ice cream at this time of the day. The Rarity I know would’ve slapped me in the face to get me to see sense. The Rarity I know…”
“Is right here.” Rarity cries out emerging from her bedroom, freshly run mascara down her cheeks.
“You sent your pony twin out. Into San Francisco. Alone. On her first trip into this world?”
“Yes. What is your point?” She sniffles.
“How did you find your way around?” I ask Rares.
“It’s very simple. I counted my steps and turns.”
“Well done.” I tell her. “So,” I sigh turning back to Rarity, “you heard everything?”
“Yes. Yes I did.” She says wiping her eyes.
“So why didn’t you dial 911?”
“Because I don’t know how to operate this “telephone” thing.” Rares replies on their behalf.
“Fair enough. Rarity?”
“Max, I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been going through nor for how long. But I can tell you from the bottom of my heart that you have friends and family who care so very deeply for you. Their hearts would break many times over if you did die, especially by suicide.” She pleads from heavily tear-stained eyes.
“I know we’ve only just met,” Rares says to back her twin up, “but based on what Rarity has told me, I can’t imagine the pain she’d go through knowing she lost someone like you.”
“Ha. You know, I really didn’t want to tell any of you this, but I guess after a speech like that, you leave me no choice.” I pause and take a deep breath. “After I pulled the trigger, when you all burst onto the scene, I don’t know what happened afterwards, but by some miracle, I woke up in hospital. I’m not going to say that was it, but I reckon you played a part.” I pause fighting tears. “You could be my heroes. Or just ordinary women who’ve saved me from complete self-destruction multiple times.”
Rarity then walks up to me and hugs me tighter than Applejack ever has (or equivalent, I’m not really sure anymore).
I sigh as Rares fights tears of her own.
“I’m sorry. Is this making your mascara run?” I whisper to the Equestrian.
She nods before eventually letting it all out and joining in the group hug.
Next morning, I wake up with a dry mouth. Groggily, I edge my way out of bed so as not to wake anyone up, head for the kitchen, grab a glass, and fill up from the tap. I take a few sips before downing a few glasses’ worth. Eventually, my vision clears so I can get a time check: 4:15. I put the glass in the sink before heading out for a drive.
After I start the car, I let her warm up before I head to the Golden Gate Bridge. No, I am not here to try anything. What I am here to do is see the suicide deterrent. A piece of shit that is. What an eyesore. Makes me want to jump off a bridge just looking at it. Oh, wait… shit. God fucking damn it.
I know it’s for a good cause, and there’s honestly no better way to implement it without sacrificing some of the beauty of the bridge, but it still makes me think.
As I stare straight down admiring the mesh nets that make up the deterrent, a man of about twice my size joins me in taking in the view.
“You know, it’s a 260 foot drop to the bottom.” He says.
“Well, did you know that the steel used to build this bridge was painted the color it retains to this day to protect it from the elements? Just like the Statue of Liberty, it discolored and they just kept it that way.”
“Matthew.” He says extending his hand.
“Split Scimitar. I just go by Max.” I respond shaking it firmly. “You a pilot?” I then ask, staring at his uniform.
“I was. Once. Until my friend threw me out.”
“What do you mean?”
“One of my coworkers and good friends attacked me in the cockpit on what was to become my last flight ever. Beat me within an inch of my life because he claimed I stole his rightful place in the airlines. Unfortunately, the injuries were so severe, I can’t even qualify for BasicMed, so my days in a cockpit are no more.”
“Shit man. I’m really fuckin’ sorry about that.”
“Me too. I’m sad it had to end this way. But hey, I lost upgrades to colleagues and friends who had connections, even though I had more seniority. Most of them stabbed me in the back after leaving me in the dust to boot.”
“You must’ve had it bad, dealing with shitty people like that.”
“Well, they didn’t like me. I was an outsider to them so they treated me like shit. How hard was it for you though?”
“I mean, I was targeted too, but maybe my name is why they treated me the way they did.”
“I wouldn’t put it past anyone. Most of the aviation community’s toxic, especially Airbus supremacists.”
“Hard truth, that one. But you know what? All we can do is shove the hate aside, keep doin’ what we’re doin’, and know we’re only doing this for ourselves.”
“You know, I like you Max.”
“Thanks. Glad someone does.”
“My god, you sound just like me.”
“What can you do?” I chuckle back.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” He responds as we both stare towards Alcatraz. “Hey man, it’s been an absolute pleasure meeting you. I kind of wish we could’ve met earlier in my life.” He then adds extending his hand again.
“Yeah man, same.” I respond shaking it firmly.
“I hope you stay true to your words, because you’ve got a long and prosperous life ahead of you. I don’t.”
But before I can formulate a response, Matthew jumps the railing and clears the suicide barrier, disappearing into the water below.
“Yeah. Everything’s going to be just fine.”
