We went out for drinks at an Irish pub on our first night in San Fran (not exactly a cultural experience, I know, but it was near our hostel and the beer was cold!). By chance, a sailor from the HMCS Vancouver learned that we were canadians, and sat down to chat with his fellow countrymen. It was an interesting converstation with a very drunken sailor, that ended with promises of a tour of the ship the next morning if we showed up at 11:30 with our passports.
Not ones to pass up on interesting opportunities, we were pier 23 on time (myself feeling slightly silly and wondering if there an equivalent word to hockey pucks or tire biters for girls that chase sailors and whether we would be seen as such), hoping our drunken sailor wasn't too drunk to remember us.
But alas, it was not to be. The working day was dragging on for the sailors, the ship wasn't secure and there was no sign of our sailor.
~Christine
We left disappointed, but laughing at thought that we're likely not the first women in San Fransisco to have our hearts broken by a drunken sailor.
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