San Francisco 1988

So here it was, Sept 1988, I don't remember the exact date. I woke up in the morning in my new home, filled with other people's furniture. My wrecked truck Amarillo was sitting out in the drive way. There was no food, no coffee, no comfort there for me, so I got dressed and went in search of something to help me start the day right. There was a coffee shop down the hill just a few blocks, so I sat and drank my coffee and tried to figure out what the next step was. I had called my parents and was just waiting to hear back from them after they talked to the State Farm guy, Dave. There was an auto body shop right near the coffee shop, and after breakfast, I must have called them to come get my car because somehow that's where it was now. I remember that place, it was a dark 2 story cement building. There was nothing else to do for now except wait, so I set out to explore the neighborhood and figure out where I was. The Golden Gate Park was right across the street from where I was, so I walked over there to look around, and it was breathtaking, but huge. Full exploration would have to wait. I headed back to the neighborhood. There were a bunch of cute little boutiques, coffee shops, chinese and other ethnic restaurants around that little Inner Sunset neighborhood. The day was bright and sunny, as only San Francisco can be in the early fall. I got some groceries and walked back home, and got my stereo set up so I had some music. I had never been in a city before, and had no idea how to get around without a car. I watched people waiting for the bus, and the  street car, and asked someone where I could get a map and how to use the bus. Its an odd place to be, alone in a city, unsure even how to get around or where you are. I didn't know a soul, so I was gonna have to get brave and ask for help if I was gonna make it there. Luckily, the upstairs neighbor was a kind older lady who was a wealth of information about the city, transportation and other vital survival skills. I needed to find a job in a hurry. I had only brought $100 with me, which was plenty to live off of in a small town in Oregon, but here in the big city, it was almost gone! So that was my next task. Someone came to visit me that first week I was there, I don't remember who, but for some reason, we ended up in Berkeley after taking Bart across the bay. We were exploring Telegraph street and there was a small used record store, The Mint Platter,  down a flight of cement stairs, tucked secretively into the corner. I went in and asked for a job, telling them about my years of experience in radio and writing. The manager wasn't there, but the fellow working at the counter, Ty, told me to write it all down (since I didn't have a resume) and leave a phone number I could be contacted at, and he'd have his boss call me. Amazingly enough, the next day, I got a call from Chris Detzer, the manager, asking me to come in an meet him. So I took Bart back over to Berkeley again (which I was panicked about because I think it cost me $2.00 each direction and I was running out of cash!), but we met, and he asked me questions about music. I had never worked in a record store, but I had worked retail and customer service and new enough about music that he was sure I would be able to learn, so he hired me on the spot, and I started the next day! Wow, things were looking up! I now had some new friends, a new job, and soon, money in my pocket. Later that week, I heard from the insurance company, and they told me they would pay to destroy my car because it was totalled, but they wouldn't pay to fix it. I didn't have a choice. I didn't have the money to fix her, and so with tears in my eyes, I pulled out the CB radio, and gathered up the tools and stuff that was left in my truck, and kissed her goodbye. I was now alone in a city I didn't know, with no one to help me, and no car. It was gonna be a crash course in adjusting to the unknown.