When Remodeling Means Rats

The other night, Ryan, Aaron, Mike and I went on a stroll through Hayes Valley stopping by House of Sushi.

2157 Polk Street, San Francisco, CA

I saw a sign that I thought was funny. Engrish always is right?

While I thought that was funny, and took to getting a shot of it, either Aaron or Ryan picked up on another sign…

Since when did “remodeling” mean “we have rats or some other disease carrying vermin and this isn’t our first warning so we are shutdown until we can prove to the city that our restaurant isn’t going to kill or sicken our paying customers”?

I love sushi. Like, really love sushi. And normally in a situation like this I would be thinking, “Oh my G-d, what if I had eaten here?!” Luckily, there is Yelp…

Santa Rosa + Sushi + Friends – Place to Stay = Memories

We made it to San Francisco a couple of hours late, something to do with excessive traffic on the runway at SFO.  So that kinda sucked but I got some work done with the extra time so I guess it wasn’t so bad.


Oh, but there is a problem. The car rental place closes at 6pm.  Our plane landed at 4:15, we got our luggage at 4:45, we got on the Bart at 5:00 and we have a 50 minute ride to our stop and then a seven block, up hill walk to Avis with a 50lb suitecase and two carryons.  If we don’t make it, we are screwed.

We make it.  (meh, not in the mood to create rising action, straight to the dénouement)

Get the GPS, not dealing with getting lost at this point, not matter how well I know the city.  Head to Santa Rosa.  We meet up with Kayla and Jeana for some awesome Sushi.  Awesome sushi.  Of course, why wouldn’t it be awesome?  It’s California sushi.



After dinner I give Ryan a tour of Santa Rosa.  Where I worked, where I went to school, where I lived, where I hung out, it was way too exciting for me.  The house where Seth and I lived was totally renovated and looks amazing.

So then we are off to the river house, where I lived when I first moved to California and where I ended my stint in California and where I will likely pick back up, my life in California.  It was late, we were tired…  I go to the door, insert my key, pull the handle, it opens.

Then, without hesitation, it slams itself closed.

I try again.  It closes again.

We hear a voice speaking through the crack in the door, “Hello?  Who is this?”.  I reply, he opens the door a crack, tells us he needs to get dressed and asks if we can go through the back.

Get dressed?  Ok?  Back door, sure.  We have what I can only guess was a rabid Australian Cattle Dog mixed-up-mutt threatening our lives with his backing, snarling and dripping canines.  Vincent, the man who answered the door, the owner of the dog and the contractor on the house, insists the creature is harmless, and frantically lets us into the house.  He shows us all the work he has done… blah blah, we certainly can’t stay there.  I guess Vincent has taken to living there.  Hmmm.

We make some calls, no one has a place for us and we end back, after touring through Healdsburg, back in Santa Rosa and we sleep in our car.

Thanks Home Depot parking lot.  Meh, it wasn’t so bad, we woke up early, got some breakfast, met up with Callie and my old Starbucks customers and friends.  And then it’s off to San Francisco.

Drop off the car, unload our luggage at the hotel, and then I go to lunch with my cousin Patrick at this great little place called Mario’s Cigar Shop.  Fantastic paninis.

Despite sleeping in a rental car our first night in California, we had a blast.

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