amazon robots and hells angels
Hi from San Francisco, where I am back in my old neighborhood, taking care of two of my favorite dogs while their people are on a much-needed vacation, a few weeks before I have to show up in person for my grandmother's 100th birthday.
I saw a lot of weird shit when I lived here. But the last couple days have been next-level.
Only in San Francisco, August 2022 edition
Coming out of baggage claim at SFO and seeing a woman chase her moving car, shouting over her shoulder to her friend, "I forgot to put it in park!"
Having to slam on my brakes on a highway on ramp, because someone in front of me decided they'd made the wrong turn, and was backing down said ramp.
Getting a text message last night from the owners of the dogs I am watching: "The golden girls have been requested for another photo shoot. Can you take the girls to Dogpatch Saloon tomorrow from 3-5. It’s for Wallpaper Magazine." Showing up to learn that yes, this is a photo shoot, ostensibly about dog-friendly bars, but the point of the article is to promote this Amazon security robot:
[Alt text: A small grey plastic robot that looks vaguely like a mop bucket]
And that's not even the weird part.
When we showed up to the bar today, the dogs were on the list marked as "Talent." I was free to drink on Jeff Bezos' tab, because I was accompanying Talent. There were other people there, and other dogs, most of whom I did not recognize. Many unfixed boy dogs, including a Great Dane with a Great Erection. Everything seemed off, not normal, confusing.
Here are some text messages I sent to people during those two hours:
"This is sponcon. The purpose of this article is to hype an Amazon-made security robot. It looks like a mop bucket and I hope the dogs pee on it."
"One of the talent just threw up. Not the ladies."
"The black male unfixed Frenchie keeps barfing bc he can’t handle the stress. The bartender is like WTF, I did not sign up for this. The ladies are like hello snacks please. And Mabel definitely rolled in something nasty today."
"All the photos are being taken in the doorway. Your dogs haven’t been called yet but I’m 💯 sure they will be the best behaved."
"Photographer: 'John we need your dog in the photo.' John (referring to Great Dane): 'I’m tryin’ man, but there’s a fucking horse next to us.'"
After an hour, the director called me and "the more mobile dog" (Mabel) up to the front. (Daisy has a lot of arthritis and has gotten so lame I have to push her around in a big dog stroller.) I had Mabel lie down like he asked me to, a few feet away from the robot, and then proceeded to drink my drink and talk to the person next to me while the cameras took 8000 pictures. Turns out this dude is my age, from the East Coast, went to Virginia Tech, was a huge Pietasters fan, and we probably know a lot of the same people. I was grateful for a nice person to talk to in such a weird situation.
Until he mentioned that not only were there a lot of Hells Angels in the bar (there is a Hells Angels clubhouse two blocks away), but the photoshoot director is a high-ranking member of the Hells Angels. And also happens to be a professional photographer. Suddenly all the menacing overly tattooed men, and their un-neutered male dogs, made sense.
"So, no Sonny Barger jokes?" I asked my new friend. He laughed and said no. I wanted to talk so much more shit, but the director dismissed me and Mabel. His loss because this dog is a supermodel.
I put Daisy back into her stroller, and the three of us walked/rolled home.
All of which is to say: Yes, Wallpaper still exists, and if you see my face in a fall issue, it's thanks to a Hells Angel who whored himself out to promote a Bezos product. #capitalism
Links
RIP Peter Ellenby, my ex's best friend. I hate these obituaries because they only talk about what people achieved or accomplished, not who they actually were. Peter could be a cranky motherfucker. But he was also one of the most welcoming people I've ever met. And incredibly generous with his time and talent. I remember the day he and his wife let us know they were pregnant with his daughter. Who is now 17. IDGAF about indie rock or indie rock photography, but I know so many people who are grieving his death, and it sucks. Whatever you are putting off: Do that shit RIGHT NOW. (SF Chronicle)
A self-compassion quiz. That I utterly fucking failed. (self-compassion.org)
Why do rich people love quiet? (Atlantic). As someone with a lot of privilege, and who is also very sensitive to noise, this was an interesting read from the "other" side. I think it comes down to control. If you have money, you think you should also be able to control your surroundings. And when you can't escape that noise and get the space you need to breathe and think, it makes you crazy. So you sell your condo and GTFO.
Rhoda (YouTube) says she buys clothes here. (Marmalade) And I want all of them. When I grow up, I want to be half as confident and gorgeous and accomplished as Rhoda. Maybe dressing like her is a start.
Oh hi. (InStyle)
Burning Man will be a monkeypox superspreading event. But hey, have a good Burn? (Twitter)
An entire blog about bad fucking language. (Wordpress)
How to make fun of the Oasis guy. (Digg)
Me, I hope, in 25 years. (Reddit)