The morning of our third day in San Francisco, I awoke feeling pretty darn gross and unhoneymoony. I felt lethargic and I was achy in—umm—a certain place one doesn’t particularly wish to feel achy and gross on one’s honeymoon (aka chocolatemoon) (and if you don’t know what the hell I mean by chocolatemoon, then go check out yesterday’s post, slacker!)
Skipping over all the rest of the icky TMI, let’s just cut to the chase and say that I had *dramatic pause* a bladder infection.
Well, color me sexy.
I wasn’t sure what to do about it. Should I dropkick all our day’s plans to the curb to go wait in a walk-in clinic or the ER alllllllllllll daaaaayyyyyy lonnnngggggggg so I could pee in a cup and beg for an antibiotic? Or should I just live on cranberry juice and Tylenol for a few days, suck it up, and hope for the best?
Of course, when I told Scope about my predicament, he immediately went all Superman on me and insisted we would find a doctor ASAP and that it would somehow magically NOT ruin our day’s plans.
Pfffffffft! Well, okaaaaaayyyyyyy, hubba-hubba-hubby, if you say so…. and can I have a pet unicorn which farts rainbows too????
*hand on hip, looking skeptical*
So, after breakfast, Scope led me to Walgreens where he said they sometimes have nurses there, sitting around, twiddling their thumbs, waiting for sickos to waltz on in in need of medical care. Cool. I did not know that. The Walgreens by our hotel didn’t have a nurse on staff, but the pharmacist gave us the address of Traveler Medical Group, which was just a couple of blocks away.
Scope and I raced over to the address we’d been given and found ourselves in a small clinic which had photos of dozens of celebrities shaking the doctor’s hand framed all over the walls.
Dr. Savage sure gets around! I kept staring at a photo of the doctor with Will Smith. For some reason I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. “I have the same doctor as Will Smith,” I kept thinking to myself.
“I HAVE THE SAME DOCTOR AS WILL SMITH!!!!”
I put my name down as a walk-in, and it only took about 30 minutes for me to be seen by the doctor, which stunned the heck out of me because I can’t even get service like that at my family doctor when I have an appointment in the book!
Dr. Savage was a funny, quirky fella, I must say. The first question he fired at me was “how long was your flight?,” followed by, “was your wedding dress tight?” when I mentioned I was on my honeymoon. He told me he sees honeymooning brides with bladder infections all the stinkin’ time because we brides tend to not drink enough water on our wedding day (because tight dresses are difficult to go to the bathroom in), so we get dehydrated, then we make it worse by not drinking enough water when we fly off on our honeymoons, and *POOF* we end up with bladder infections. He said it’s so common that he didn’t even need me to pee in a cup or anything. Nope. No test. He even had the pain meds and antibiotic I needed right there in the office, so I didn’t even have to go to a pharmacy.
The whole thing took about an hour. Ish. I started taking my meds right away and was feeling totally fine just a few short hours later. Score! And because the doctor got me in so quickly, none of Scope’s and my plans were ruined.
My hubba-hubba-hubby was right!
Scope and I had purchased tickets to take a tour bus to San Jose to visit the Winchester Mystery House. We still had some time before our bus was scheduled to pick us up, so we walked around a little bit and took a look at a building Scope’s company has an office in….
Then we took a cable car ride. (Yeah, it says ‘no passengers’ but they were totally letting passengers on)….
We ogled this Fella *snicker*….
Then we boarded a bus and set off for the Super Sightseeing Tours ticket office where we joined about 9 or 10 other people on a tour bus which would take us to the Winchester Mystery House.
It was a long bus ride to San Jose, but the scenery was gorgeous. Eventually we made it to the mansion and our bus driver gave everyone in our small group a ticket and instructed us to meet him at the bus stop at 5:05pm.
We can do that.
We weren’t allowed to take any pictures inside the mansion because, as our Miley Cyrus look-a-like tour guide so very wisely put it, “if there were pictures, there wouldn’t be a mystery and stuff.”
So, since I have no pictures of the inside of the mansion to show you, I’ll just tell you that whatever you’ve heard about the mansion is probably true. It’s like crazy and money collided with a big ol’ KABOOM! There’s a staircase that goes all the way up to the ceiling, a room with three exits but only one entrance, a door on the second floor that opens to a sheer drop to the ground below, an obvious obsession with the number 13, and just a whole lot of what the heck was Mrs. Winchester thinking?!
Our tour guide said Sarah Winchester was afraid the spirits of those who had been killed by Winchester firearms were haunting her and she was convinced that if she kept building onto her house 24/7 and never ever completed construction, the spirits would be kept at bay.
The tour was really quite awesome! Once it was over, we had a little time to walk around the outside of the mansion, taking pictures before heading back to our bus.
Here we are outside the mansion….
A lot of the windows looked like spider webs….
“The Door To Nowhere”….
Mmm. Interesting. No matter which way I turned, when I tried to get a picture of the fountain and the front doors, I kept getting a green orb in the picture. Funny, huh? But, better yet, at the same spot, Scope kept getting a purple orb in his pictures! He’s posting it today, and you can check it out HERE. SpooOOooOOky, no?….
We passed Scope’s camera off to two girls from our tour bus and they took this picture of us….
….then Scope and I headed off to the bathrooms, and I quickly bought four postcards in the gift shop, and at 5:06pm (only a mere 60 itty bitty seconds late) we rounded the corner to our bus stop. And our jaws hit the sidewalk.
Our bus was gone.
We’d been left behind. Stranded.
We panicked for half a second, but then Scope whipped out his blackberry and by 5:09 he had placed a call to the tour bus company who had called the driver and ordered him to drive back and get us. And so we waited for our bus….
It took that dude about 15 minutes to get back to the mansion for us! And guess who didn’t get a tip when we got back to San Francisco?
Once back near our hotel, we went to Uncle Vito’s for dinner….
While we were waiting for our pizza, I took my camera outside onto the crowded sidewalk to try to get a sneaky picture in the front window of the restaurant at a couple of—uhhh—snazzy women who were eating there. Just as I started to get the ladies in focus and was ready to snap a picture that would have been bloggy gold, some grody, dirty, matted-haired bum who was passing by stopped right in front of the women in the window, totally blocking my shot and stared at me.
”How does that thing work?” he asked me.
”It’s a camera,” I replied, acidly.
”I know it’s a camera,” he said, “How does it work?”
Y’know, I like people. No, really. I do. But not when they’re asking me stupid questions. And especially not when they are guys asking me stupid questions when they think I’m alone, because I know where that road leads, okay? One minute a guy will ask me while I’m pumping gas at the gas station, “hey, whatcha doin’ there?” and then next he’ll be asking for my dang phone number!
(Does that really work on some girls? Really?)
I felt a poorly-aimed pick-up line a-comin’ my way, and I was not amused. “MOVE ON!” I snapped. Then he called me an @$$hole and I went glowering back into the pizza parlor, all full of venom.
The one time I set foot on a San Francisco street without Scope, and a creep crawled out from under his rock just to talk to me! The one time! I was so mad! And, to add insult to injury, I didn’t even get the picture I wanted! But Scope did. And, fortunately, he shares with me. :-) So, here you go….
And on that note, I’m done.
(Whew, this was a long post, huh? Sorry about that! I hereby vow to be less yappy tomorrow.)