THE BUNKER

Due to a fortuitous turn of events a well known little piece of real estate in beautiful North Beach SF became available to me for the remainder of my stay here. I can't tell you exactly where it is, but I can say I've been here before. In fact the ghosts that walk these floors are many and usually half drunk apparitions. My stint here was way back in the 80's. I set up a striped circus tent on the front lawn, brought all my firearms, had my students paint a mural, oraganized a S&M costume party and counted the minutes until the landlord changed the locks. This time it's different. I'm different. What was that saying? Quiet as a mouse pissing on cotton. That's me these days.
I know some of you are going to find your knight errant a bit of a let down for not meeting up with Carlito in El Sal. And Carlito will also be disappointed, but after weighing all my options I decided it was time to head east. I can always fly down next year. I'm itching to get home and I still have a lot of driving ahead me with stops in Salt Lake City, Chicago and PA. Look, it's my decision. You think you know me? YOU DON'T KNOW ME. OK, maybe you do know me. You could've guessed I'd wimp out and get cheap and cautious just when you thought I could get in some real dicey shit. Let me remind you, I'm the one at the keyboard. You want to drive? I'll gladly read about you.
But enough of this defensiveness. It's been an incredible roadtrip and it ain't over yet. The Bunker is a port in the storm- phone, shower, internet, DVD player, Coffee shoppe, room service, library, a dip in the pool, dial up girls....or boys. (This is SF.) and a movie screening room.I couldn't ask for better digs. All they ask of me is to stay below the radar- no tent churches, sex clubs, or murals. I can do that. I've become a much better guest. Look, another mint on the pillow this morning. Motel 6 has got nothing on these guys.