I was in Vegas this past weekend, and now I’m back. I am soooo happy to be back home in San Francisco, back in my neighborhood. Back in a place where there are busses, recycling, FOG, good cuisine, good wine, things within walking distance, parks for goodness sake, and bodies of water that are natural and within spitting distance for contemplation and repose. But in Vegas, the cost of gas is $2.89 a gallon, and here it’s $3.35 … which is still great considering where it was a few months ago. In San Francisco, my rent is ugh, uh-hum. In San Francisco, there are all these extra fees and taxes on my cell phone bill, which I still don’t understand. In San Francisco — California as a whole — we have propositions galore on the November ballot. In Nevada, there are judges and representavies up for the picking.
I was frustrated by the recycling. There is none in Vegas. I felt guilty throwing out my water bottle, that I had to buy because the tap water there is HORRIBLE, just plain disgusting. Here in San Francisco, not only is the tap water the best in the land, but we have recycling, composting, and they’re talking about fining you if you don’t. … And then there are the older ladies who pick through your garbage on garbage night looking for those water bottles and beer bottles and wine bottles to take to the redemption center for quick cash. Because in California, we have CRV tacked on to each water bottle, 5 cents. Another added expense. They don’t have that in Vegas. … But you can’t use coins in the slot machines anymore. Damn! Bills only. Or Cards.