Getting to know the Inner Richmond
This semester I will be reporting on the Inner Richmond District, which, so far, I have
found historic from having found Victorian houses as well as a bar on 11th and Geary- The Hearth. Diagonally across from The Hearth is another bar with a unique name, Would You Believe? Cocktails where they serve drinks with weird names.
Since this was my first day in the neighborhood I would be reporting on I knew I had to get
10 contacts and business cards from each store/bar/restaurant I entered. The first bar I entered was The Hearth. Inside, I asked for a business card and met the proprietor of the bar, Ray Rex, who showed me old photos of Geary Boulevard and the bar itself during the 1920s. There used to be a train that went on Geary Street. That's Amazing! I took pictures of the two photos that Rex showed me. I will definitely be calling him when the time comes. I continued to ask for business cards from every restaurant I went into. Eventually I ended up on Balboa Street where I, somewhat, ended up back where I started, in a bar. O'Keefe's Bar, is an Irish pub where everyone was relaxing from their day at work. One guy in a suit and tie was playing pool and drinking beer, a few guys were seated around the bar, and a female bartender served drinks, Annie. I took a seat at the bar, close to where an old man was sitting. The first thing I thought when I saw him was that he had mental retardation and that I could list him down as a contact. Boy, was I wrong! I spent 10 minutes talking to him. I wrote my questions on my notebook, thinking he would understand me clearly. He wrote in my notebook in capital letters that he didn't understand and turned away from me, giving his attention to the TV. That was when I noticed he was had a hearing aid on his right ear. Next thing I knew he was telling me that he could take a picture of me, get on the internet, send it to the FBI and that I would be in trouble. I asked Annie for the bar's number and left.
The last day I went to the Inner Richmond was on Superbowl Sunday. It was a sunny afternoon. Hardly any people were walking on the sidewalk on Geary Street. This time I chose to start off on 6th Ave. and Balboa and head North. Interestingly enough, I found that there is a Pizza Orgazmica on Clement Street. Now who doesn't enjoy that brand of pizza? I sure do! Inside the restaurant were people watching the game on the LCD (Liquid Crystal Display) TV attentively. The restaurant was half-full. I talked to the manager, Taylor Maia, and got his contact information. Talking to him was very intriguing.
When I left Pizza Orgasmica I headed to 9th Ave., hoping to find some more people to list as contacts. Instead, I found an old man sitting on his walker, at the entrance to a parking lot on 9th Ave. between Clement and Geary. His name is Pete Dumville.
"It's quiet over here," Dumville said.
I got his contact information and ended up talking to him for 10 minutes. Shaking his hand felt like shaking hands with a dog. His fingernails were long enough to scratch markings on a wall. He wore a cap and had a grey beard. Maybe I'll use him for my PROFILE assignment. I shook Dumville's hand as a bye-gesture, telling him that I might contact him for an assignment.
I headed to Geary Street to catch the 38-Geary bus. I was going home where I was going to
found historic from having found Victorian houses as well as a bar on 11th and Geary- The Hearth. Diagonally across from The Hearth is another bar with a unique name, Would You Believe? Cocktails where they serve drinks with weird names.
Since this was my first day in the neighborhood I would be reporting on I knew I had to get
10 contacts and business cards from each store/bar/restaurant I entered. The first bar I entered was The Hearth. Inside, I asked for a business card and met the proprietor of the bar, Ray Rex, who showed me old photos of Geary Boulevard and the bar itself during the 1920s. There used to be a train that went on Geary Street. That's Amazing! I took pictures of the two photos that Rex showed me. I will definitely be calling him when the time comes. I continued to ask for business cards from every restaurant I went into. Eventually I ended up on Balboa Street where I, somewhat, ended up back where I started, in a bar. O'Keefe's Bar, is an Irish pub where everyone was relaxing from their day at work. One guy in a suit and tie was playing pool and drinking beer, a few guys were seated around the bar, and a female bartender served drinks, Annie. I took a seat at the bar, close to where an old man was sitting. The first thing I thought when I saw him was that he had mental retardation and that I could list him down as a contact. Boy, was I wrong! I spent 10 minutes talking to him. I wrote my questions on my notebook, thinking he would understand me clearly. He wrote in my notebook in capital letters that he didn't understand and turned away from me, giving his attention to the TV. That was when I noticed he was had a hearing aid on his right ear. Next thing I knew he was telling me that he could take a picture of me, get on the internet, send it to the FBI and that I would be in trouble. I asked Annie for the bar's number and left.
The last day I went to the Inner Richmond was on Superbowl Sunday. It was a sunny afternoon. Hardly any people were walking on the sidewalk on Geary Street. This time I chose to start off on 6th Ave. and Balboa and head North. Interestingly enough, I found that there is a Pizza Orgazmica on Clement Street. Now who doesn't enjoy that brand of pizza? I sure do! Inside the restaurant were people watching the game on the LCD (Liquid Crystal Display) TV attentively. The restaurant was half-full. I talked to the manager, Taylor Maia, and got his contact information. Talking to him was very intriguing.
When I left Pizza Orgasmica I headed to 9th Ave., hoping to find some more people to list as contacts. Instead, I found an old man sitting on his walker, at the entrance to a parking lot on 9th Ave. between Clement and Geary. His name is Pete Dumville.
"It's quiet over here," Dumville said.
I got his contact information and ended up talking to him for 10 minutes. Shaking his hand felt like shaking hands with a dog. His fingernails were long enough to scratch markings on a wall. He wore a cap and had a grey beard. Maybe I'll use him for my PROFILE assignment. I shook Dumville's hand as a bye-gesture, telling him that I might contact him for an assignment.
I headed to Geary Street to catch the 38-Geary bus. I was going home where I was going to
Good details throughout. I enjoyed reading your blog, Julio. Thanks, Y
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