Instead I flew off to hang out in foreign bars, dance clubs, and other dark places (and to repeat the phrase “I’m sorry; I only speak English” all day). There were dozens of events in SF in October that I was going to be sad to miss, but unlike most of them (shows, for the most part), this one would be around when I got back.

Or so I thought. Yesterday, I got the news that, in fact, Mission Street Food has already gotten too popular, with lines of people down the block before the cart even opens. So now, instead, he’s going to temporarily rent an as-yet-unknown restaurant for the night and serve food out of there instead. What? Then it’s just, you know, a restaurant! I demand kitsch and irony and the appeal of something new and different (and possibly offensive, if you’re one of those people who thinks a lot). Instead I get a restaurant that’s closed 6 nights a week? I suppose I’ll take what I can get. King Trumpet, wait for me, I’ll be home soon!