"I was sitting at Specs' Cafe in North Beach, waiting for my blind date to arrive, and thinking about Christopher Columbus. One thing I've learned about explorers is that some of them fell into the job haphazardly. For example, Cortez was like 15th on the list of people Spain chose to explore the New World. All the other candidates either didn't want the gig, died before they could get there, or had more pressing things to see to, such as enslaving people in other locations. By most accounts, Cortez was a doofus who lucked into things in a sort of Being There kind of way. So, I wondered, could the same be said for Columbus? Was he just in the right place at the right time? Did he happen to have a particularly deft sense of which wigwam to toss those smallpox-infested blankets upon?
There's so much debate as to whether Columbus Day honors a hero or a villain, but what if he was neither -- if he was just a dude who landed a gig? I mean, everyone was a dick back then. If you weren't a serf, you could pretty much do whatever you wanted to whomever you wanted. I guess what I'm saying is: Don't hate the player, hate the game.
Why was I thinking about this? Well, I was on Columbus Avenue, and my date was from Mexico. He eventually showed up, was quite handsome, and we chatted a bit about stuff that you tend to talk about on a first date: the music you like, which bars you frequent, the makeup of your family, and the fact that burritos were invented by gringos."
Continue on as the third wheel on Bouncer's little rendevous here.