The first annual 7.46 mile Bay to Breakers foot-race was in 1912 after San Francisco's 1906 earthquake. Its purpose was to lift the city's spirits.
Now Bay to Breakers has evolved into a drunken Halloween parade in the middle of May where everyone consumes spirits. It is fantastic. My freshman year of college I was driving at ten in the morning and was startled to witness blockaded streets and hordes of people stumbling down them costumed as pregnant nuns, super-heroes, penises, or bodies covered solely in paint. I had to check my coherency to ensure I wasn't daydreaming. That was when I was young and as naive as Bambi.
By sophomore year I knew precisely what comprised Bay to Breakers and that my life required I partake. In the past few years my friends and I have lost each other, consumed beer bongs on the street, dragged along kegs in grocery carts like they are strollers carrying our children, played Flip Cup on the sidewalk, blacked out, passed out, wrestled, been caught urinating on the grass in Golden Gate Park... one of my friends accidentally urinated on a stranger. Another got in a fist-fight with her boyfriend. I forced someone I didn't know to buy me a hot dog while his girlfriend looked on. My two roommates slathered themselves in red paint and designed a white Nike swoosh across their chests and the words "Just Do It" across their ass cheeks. One girl's ass cheek read "Ju" with the other "st." The other girl had "Do" on one cheek and "It" on the other. Videos are on YouTube somewhere... Another year I was locked out of my friend's apartment and had been persevering over my pee for twenty-five minutes. My alcohol-affected self dictated I relieve myself immediately. My bladder didn't discriminate. It's decision-making skills rivaled that of Michael Jackson and any location was acceptable. The driveway became the destination. A male who lived above my friend exited his apartment to observe a waterfall discharging from my vagina and cascading down his driveway. Niagara Falls of urination.
Every year, my friends and I ultimately struggle back to whomever's apartment happens to be most convenient and we sleep/pass out. Last year, my brother, sister, and two childhood friends capsized into comas on the couch of a friend they hadn't met prior to that morning. I located them two hours later. This year I was in Southern Cal for my brother's college graduation and birthday.
One of my friends updated me throughout the day. While I self-medicated away my sorrows with alcohol at not being able to engage in B2B, he was awoken by his cousin at 6am when she placed a tray of Jello shots in his mouth. By 7am he was so drunk he forgot about everyone. He adorned himself in a black Speedo and black cowboy hat for the parade that has become B2B. At some time during the day he went to a Giant's game without his ID. It became the second time his handgun safety certificate was accepted as proof of ID to purchase beer. At some point he passed out in the street under a car (and was later informed of this action by his friend). He regained consciousness the following morning in the driver's seat of his friend's car. They chose the car over his cousin's house. The car was parked in front of the house.
I received this message from him the following day:
"The funniest part of B2B was when a friend and I decided to urinate on a parked van. We tag teamed that shit, as he took the rear tire and I opted for the side door. It surprised the hell out of me when people inside started banging on the window right in front of my face. All I could do was laugh, and as I turned to my friend pointing and laughing I think I peed on him too. Not sure though, very drunk (and this was on our way to B2B)."