"Nowadays, I always go a few hours before."
My flight leaves from SFO at 9pm. Sure, I'll bake and have a quick air fryer cookie. Was very close to getting in a Fortnite match, but I just had the cookie. And then a slice of Sliver in Downtown Berkeley, because #yammers.
BART has not let me down for flights, until it does.
The confusion started in Downtown Berkeley. The direct SFO train is cancelled so board at MacArthur. Let's keep it easy: just follow the Giants fans.
The transfer train takes us to 12th Street, and there is an unusually long stop there, but I still vibe out to my Bumbershoot 2025 playlist.
We are back on our way, and our first stop is...LAKE MERRITT. I KNOW Bart - BART is fuuuucked tonight. All of us San Francisco bound pour out of the train. There is a passive aggressive pandemonium brewing. I ask one Giants guy what he heard, and he admits he couldn't hear them, and trusts the BART signs. I have a 9PM Seattle flight to catch, I take action. I head up to verify what I thought I heard: all trains to San Francisco are cancelled. The booth clerk says we should simply head back to MacArthur to transfer, but I know, the definition of insanity is doing something again that didn't work before. So, I start my thoughts of UBERing to Bart, but like "smart-people WiFI", another roller-bag guy and I start teaming up to UBER together. Then we find another, and head upstairs to the street. We find one more and boom, a $100 UBER is now $25 each.
Says the guy that moved away, "Now, this is the Bay Area I remember."
The UBER ride becomes this joyous, triumphant ride of travel stories and dispatches from retirement.
Or in other words: a cookie, and a slice of pizza, is always the right idea.
My flight leaves from SFO at 9pm. Sure, I'll bake and have a quick air fryer cookie. Was very close to getting in a Fortnite match, but I just had the cookie. And then a slice of Sliver in Downtown Berkeley, because #yammers.
BART has not let me down for flights, until it does.
The confusion started in Downtown Berkeley. The direct SFO train is cancelled so board at MacArthur. Let's keep it easy: just follow the Giants fans.
The transfer train takes us to 12th Street, and there is an unusually long stop there, but I still vibe out to my Bumbershoot 2025 playlist.
We are back on our way, and our first stop is...LAKE MERRITT. I KNOW Bart - BART is fuuuucked tonight. All of us San Francisco bound pour out of the train. There is a passive aggressive pandemonium brewing. I ask one Giants guy what he heard, and he admits he couldn't hear them, and trusts the BART signs. I have a 9PM Seattle flight to catch, I take action. I head up to verify what I thought I heard: all trains to San Francisco are cancelled. The booth clerk says we should simply head back to MacArthur to transfer, but I know, the definition of insanity is doing something again that didn't work before. So, I start my thoughts of UBERing to Bart, but like "smart-people WiFI", another roller-bag guy and I start teaming up to UBER together. Then we find another, and head upstairs to the street. We find one more and boom, a $100 UBER is now $25 each.
Says the guy that moved away, "Now, this is the Bay Area I remember."
The UBER ride becomes this joyous, triumphant ride of travel stories and dispatches from retirement.
Or in other words: a cookie, and a slice of pizza, is always the right idea.