Just Another Friday Night in the Gaslamp...

I live in the heart of downtown San Diego, the Gaslamp District. It's named that after a few streets that have a number of historical buildings on them. But the Gaslamp is rich in restaurants, clubs, shopping, and more. And on Friday night, high above the street in my little fifth-floor aerie, it's a veritable aural cornucopia. Sometimes this is annoying, but last night it was such a diverse group of sounds, it was actually enjoyable.

Around 6:00pm:

I wake up from a nap to the sound of bagpipes, about a block away. "Amazing Grace," and a couple of other short songs. The person playing is good, and while I admire the technique and the sheer learning curve of manipulating this instrument into creating actual music, I'm thankful he's at least a block away and goes elsewhere. A little bagpipe goes a long way....and it quickly sounds like a cat being strangled.

Around 9:00pm:

The Hare Krishna make their first of two usual passes through the Gaslamp, but tonight something is different. Normally they just have a drum to accompany their singing; tonight they have some kind of wind instrument. When they pass through again about 20 minutes later, they've added what sounds like some kind of string instrument. I have the feeling this added musical interlude is for one night only. It's probably not in the budget.

Around 9:15pm:

The soft yet resonant clip-clop of a horse-drawn carriage cuts through the night air. It used to be a usual thing here in the Gaslamp, but now the carriage rides are pretty much confined to Seaport Village. Occasionally, one comes down my street. Tonight is one of those occasions.

Around 9:25pm:

I hear two men arguing outside. Well, one man, really. I rise to look out the window. There's a well-dressed, quiet man in dark shirt and pants by his totally hot car (it looks like a Jaguar to me, all black to match his outfit). He's about 25 feet away from a wool-capped, backpacked, homeless looking dude who is yelling and screaming at him about him being a bully and how he has to deal with his sick daughter and he knows the man in black is a murderer. The guy in black obviously realizes he's dealing with a lunatic and turns and walks away, but stops at the super-hot car, and opens the driver side door and out steps a super-hot blonde, short-skirted and long-legged, looking entirely like she came with the car. The crazy guy moves up the street, but turns and fires one more salvo: "You're dead, bitch!" followed quickly with "I'm calling the FBI on you!"

All night long, ending around 2:00am:

Drunks, car alarms, bad cover bands, shouting homeless, police, fire, and ambulance sirens and the stray bachlorette party (immediately indentifiable by the woman wearing a miniskirt, tottering on drunken heels, and wearing a white, flowing veil).

Just another Friday night in the Gaslamp.

Yep. Just another Friday night.

Comments

[Pam]

Well, I can imagine that things, streetlive (giggle)...but I love a good bagpipe!