On a dark October night

Happy cries are heard at 3 am in the morning as I am walking through the Tenderloin, (one of the worst neighborhoods in SF) dressed up as a superhero, with a mask and a cape.
I had lost my wallet, id and credit cards, and the group had split up. So there I was. A masked, mysterious figure.. in a bright yellow and red colored costume. Moving along, with the cape waving on my back, puzzled by how warm the tights actually are.
All I have with me is $15 bucks in cash, my cell phone, and a key to the hostel that we checked in to several hours earlier.
By then I had fought villains, crooks, and pirates with only one eye, managed to escape from a pack of wild tigers and single-handedly defeated the swamp monster of Pier 39. Yes it's true! Or maybe my recollection is a little off since it was o so many days ago already.
One thing is certain though: I had lots of fun, and I walk as graciously as you would imagine, after a good party, through the city, finding my way back, avoiding to glance at the pushers and addicts in the streets, dodging some homeless guy in every other corner.
But hey, I mean, sure they could mug me, but there isn't much to take anyways, and the hostel is only a couple of miles away.

It all started some days earlier with the idea of everyone dressing up as superheroes. Tights, t-shirts, fabric, dye and paint was bought and suits were made. The colors had barely dried as we, all dressed in our new uniforms, left to take the train to San Francisco.

It's interesting how social rules can be totally ignored as soon as people are dressed in costumes. We entered a carriage with 20 people that were dressed up to their teeth.
The decision was made to follow them to a local pub, were we gained gin and tonic and lost the Pope (one of the Bergmans). Leaving the train in San Francisco we enjoyed walking around looking like superheroes for a while, and the reactions provoked by this odd behavior. (The Pope also had lots of fun, but we wouldn't learn about that until the next day).

The plan was to head for the YSC party at the wax museum in Fisherman’s Warf, and after checking in at the hostel and going through the ever-so-tedious process of getting a cab (calling for one is no use), eventually we all got there…

Many hours, new faces, and some number of beers later, we found our way back. The next day we spent a slow Sunday afternoon eating pizza in a local park near California Ave train station back in Palo Alto.

Thats all kids. The story ends as happily like most. The world is rid of the swamp monster, the sun has come out, and I have canceled my old credit cards. Don't leave lit candles unattended and see you next time.

Robert