I’m in San Francisco tonight on business. It’s the first night in my daughter’s life that we’ve not slept in the same room. It feels a little odd to be this out of touch — the flight landed here after I hope both wife and daughter were well asleep.
I’m in the “Dirty Harry” room of the Hotel Bijou. It’s kinda cool in a funky, downtown-y way. I don’t know if I’m exactly in the red light district, but I’m certainly not in the upscale neighborhood judging by the adult dvd mega stores, and the bars on the windows. Perhaps naively, I don’t feel unsafe though.
The cabby dropped me off a block away and tried to convince me that some other hotel was the Hotel Bijou. I balked, and he drove me around the block again. Knowing that he would do nothing beyond drive me around the block one more time, I got out and paid him. It cost $40 to get here from the airport (including tip) — more than I expected, but still pretty reasonable I guess. I’m basing a lot of my hunches of prices for things on business trips I used to take to New York semi-regularly. But those were several years ago, and NY and SF may both be major cities, but they are different ones. Alas, I need to crash. It’s too late on my bio-time and while I don’t have an early schedule tomorrow, my body will probably try to convince me otherwise. It’ll be interesting to see how long a contiguous chunk of sleep I can get in a night. I wonder how completely I’ve adapted to multiple night wakings taking care of Sam. Regardless, I’m off to try.