Finally back East, after several weeks on the West Coast – a bit of that in LA, though most up in San Francisco. The trip was the longest stretch I’d spent in the Bay Area in several years, and refreshed for me a number of lessons blunted by the seven years spent living on the other side of the country. To wit:

1. While San Francisco thinks it has a public transportation, in reality, the BART, Metro and bus systems are merely sufficient to mock you with their inadequacy.

2. As a result, everyone drives. Yet, somehow, there are literally and absolutely no available parking spaces in the entire city. The few overpriced garages that do exist are guaranteed to be no fewer than ten or fifteen blocks from whichever bar you were hoping to attend.

3. Gay men love me. In the explanatory words of one drunk San Franciscan who spent the night hitting on me (including, at one point, while standing at the adjacent urinal in the bathroom, walking over to show me he was pierced): “The only thing gay guys like more than a cute gay guy is a cute straight guy who looks like he might be willing to experiment.” Thanks, I think.

4. Most women actually look much better when not caked under a layer of makeup and squeezed into black pants and a tube top.

5. My trusty Timbuk2 bag is neither as cool nor as unique as living in New York might lead one to believe.

6. San Francisco is, despite the constant whining of its residents to the contrary, cheap. At several bars, I was able to buy three beers with a $10 and still have enough change for a generous tip. In at least half the bars in New York City, that $10 wouldn’t buy you the first pint.

7. In San Francisco, irony isn’t dead; it simply seems to have never caught on in the first place. God bless you, lack of trucker hats!

8. People… talk… much… slower. Case in point: At a business presentation I gave to a group of investors, the moderator announced that I was nearly out of time. “That’s fine,” I joked, “I’ll just talk quicker.” “God help us,” heckled someone in the audience.