You Say Dore Alley, I Say Bore Alley

The only downside to the quiet, contented life I lead is a lack of blog fodder. As our friend the UrbanStreetPirate will tell you, our weekends almost inevitably comprise lunch at Chow, errands at Walgreens on Castro street, groceries at the Rainbow, and then a nap. I know it seems a shame to live in the middle of such vibrancy as San Francisco and yet lead the life of a spinster in a Barbara Pym novel, but I like it.

Two of the many fascinating sounding opportunities we ignore are the annual Dore Alley and Folsom Street fairs. Both of them have a long-standing reputation as libertine bacchanals; sexual outlaw festivals. This poster helps show the image it has locally.

The reality? Wall to wall crowds

and gnarly naked guys who really should know better.

We call it the Curse of Viagra.

To be fair there is actually some humpiness there, running wild.

This is after all, San Francisco. But since the fair is on Sunday, you can see a very tasty preview wandering around the Castro on the Saturday afternoon before, sort of warming up. And without the crush of stinky humanity. Although we also saw one of our sisters in gnarliness sitting buck naked on a bench on 18th Street. As I pointed out to R Man in my prissiest tone "Other people have to sit on the bench, too, you know."

The whole thing is mainly just another street fair with S&M booths interspersed with the crappy stained glass "art" and the fajita stands. Can I just say this about fajita stands? I despise them. As a passionate fan of good Mexican food, I can't understand how these abominations even exist. There's a clear distinction between grilled meat and charred gristle and these guys fall way down on the wrong end of the scale. Sort of the like the elderly naked bucks.