ROCK MY WORLD

3. San Francisco

I finally make it to San Francisco. I've dreamed about coming here for such a long time that it almost feels unreal that I'm even here.
San Francisco is no doubt the most beautiful city in America and I don't care how cheesey it is but right now would be the perfect opportunity for me to play San Francisco by Scott McKenzie. As I approach a red light, I quickly swap my Jimi Hendrix CD for Scott McKenzie's single. The light changes to green and the song starts to play, instantly giving me goosebumps with a big smile that lights up my face.

As I drive down Steiner Street, I look to my right and see some Victorian-style houses painted in bright pastels, standing tall in their splendor. Apparently the locals call them the "Painted Ladies" or the "Seven Sisters". I decide to stop little yellow on the side of the street, taking in the beauty of San Fran, while a trolley moves up and down the middle of the street every now and then. The scenery here is so surreal and it's just as perfect as I expected it to be.
I don't know what it is about this place but as I look around, I get the feeling that great things are on the way for me. Maybe I might find my calling after all, that this trip is exactly what I need just to find myself and to meet the right kind of people. I'm already considering to move here.
After my little moment in thought, I go to turn the key in the ignition, but she doesn't seem to be turning on. I try over and over again and it doesn't seem to be budging.
"Fuck", I say under my breath, so much for "great things are on the way for me".
I get out of the camper van and take a minute to breathe in the air. I have been driving endlessly for hours, I might as well take a minute to stretch my legs.
Feeling all stiff and sore, I sit down on the curb in front of the camper van when I notice a diner just across from me. My stomach growls and I realise I haven't ate in 8 hours. I'm pretty sure the last thing I ate was an entire family sized bag of cheetos.

I walk in to the diner and they're playing Motley Crue's Kick Start My Heart. It's still rock I suppose, but it's the 80s stuff so I'm not that pleased. I walk over and take a seat in the booth next to the window where I can spot little yellow sitting next to the Victorian houses across the street.
A waitress walks over.
"Anything to drink?" She asks.
"Can I just have a glass of water please?"
"I'll get that for you now".
As I look around the diner, I notice that there is barely anyone in here. There seems to only be an old lady sitting in the booth behind me and a fairly fat, middle aged man violently eating a hamburger, which I assume he is on his lunchbreak from construction working. I wonder why this place isn't more popular, it's quite cute with its 50s themed aesthetic.

As I continue to scan my eyes around the place, my eye catches a jukebox sitting in the far corner of the diner. I wonder what songs they have on it.
Just as I am about to get up to go over to the jukebox, a dark haired guy, wearing all black and leather gets up and walks over to the jukebox. I didn't notice him sitting over in the far corner, he must have been sitting slumped low in his booth for some reason. I briefly watch him, waiting to see what he plays. Little Wing by Jimi Hendrix starts to play. As he turns around and heads back to his booth, we catch eachother's gaze. I blush and quickly look away after realising that he's quite beautiful. Tan, black hair and piercings in his ears and one just below his bottom lip which I have never seen on people before but he really suits it.
I quickly look back over at his booth and he slides down low against the seat. Strange. He looks like he is trying to hide himself.
"Ma'am?" The waitress says, shaking me out of thought. I've just realised that I've been staring over at that guy's booth for a while.
"Would you like to order now?" She asks, as she sets my water down on the table.
"Yes sorry, can I have a hamburger please?"
"Of course, any sides with that?" She asks, as she jots down my order into her notebook.
"No, thanks"
"Okay, shouldn't be too long", she says as she tucks her notebook into the front pocket of her apron and walks away.

"Cute hippie van" the dark, tan guy says, suddenly appearing out of nowhere making me jump in my seat.
"Oh sorry did I scare you?" He says with a cute laugh.
"Uh" I say like an idiot, completely distracted by his attractive face.
"Your camper van. That yours?" He repeats, while pointing at little yellow sitting across the street.
"Oh, yeah that's mine".
"I thought so".
"How did you know?" I ask.
"You just look like a 70s hippie chick. Sorry if that's stereotypical" He says, with that cute laugh again while I take to notice his dimple and piercing smile.
"A weird hippie chick?" I ask.
"No, cute", he replies.
I look away trying to hide my blushing face. Nobody has ever said that I look like a cute hippie, I was always "that weird hippie chick" in high school.
"So what are you doing in San Francisco? I have a feeling you're not from here" He asks, as he sits himself down in the red leather seats to face me.
"Just visiting. I've always wanted to come here" I say, keeping it brief and short. I'm not about to spill my heart on to the table and explain to a stranger that I have no friends and have no idea what I'm doing with my life.
"Are you from here?" I continue.
"Yeah, I love it here. Born and raised" he replies.
"Here's your hamburger" the waitress says, as she sets it on the table.
"Anything else just give me a shout".
"Thank you", I reply.
"You like Hendrix?" he asks, just as I am about to take a bite out of my hamburger.
"Yeah I love Hendrix, Little Wing is one of my favourites" I reply, with a smile lighting up my face. Finally someone that I have come across that likes the old stuff too.
"Me too, I played that song at one of my shows with my band".
"Oh are you like in a small band or something?" I ask curiously.
He stares at me for a moment, looking like I just asked the dumbest question.
"Uh, yeah", he finally replies.
"What's your band called?"
"Metallica".
"That's a cool name for a band, I'm guessing it's rock you play?"
"Yeah, it's more metal actually", he replies.
"I've never really listened to metal to be honest, I mainly listen to the classics like Hendrix, Fleetwood Mac, Led Zeppelin", I reply.
"Zeppelin's cool, Jimmy Page is one of my inspirations and obviously Hendrix too".
I love this guy already.

We sit in silence for a few seconds. He stares at me for a moment with his hands clasped together on the table. He has an inquisitive look on his face, as though he is trying to figure me out. I blush and awkwardly take a bite out of my handburger, looking away from his intimatingly beautiful face.
"Well I better head back to my booth" he finally says, "my food is probably getting cold. It was nice talking to you-"
"Blake", I answer for him.
"Nice talking to you Blake", he says with a smile.
"And it was nice talking to you-" I say, waiting for him to say his name. He gives me that astonished looked again, as though he is surprised I don't know his name.
"Kirk. Kirk Hammett."
"Nice talking to you Kirk Hammett", I say as I smile back at him.
He gets up and leaves the table. I can't help but watch him walk back over to his booth. I would be lying if I said he wasn't incredibly attractive. My eyes follow him as he walks past the booths and toward his table.
He slides back down into his seat again.

After I pay for my food and leave the diner, I walk over to my broken down camper van and sit on the curb. What the fuck am I meant to do now? Before I get up to walk back into the diner and ask to phone for a tow truck, I see Kirk approaching me.
"You alright?" Kirk asks, looking down at me.
"My van has actually broken down" I say with an awkward laugh.
"My cousin could fix that for you no problem. I could go back into the diner and call him up and get him to fix it for free", he insists.
"Yeah that would be great, thank you", I say relieved.
After waiting about 30 minutes, Kirk's cousin finally arrives.
"So what happened exactly?" He asks as he gets out of his car.
"I was turning the key in the ignition and it wouldn't start", I reply.
"It's a nice little van, I take it it's an old thing" he says, as he fiddles about in the ignition switch.
"1975" I reply.
"Then this was bound to happen at some point", he replies.
"Turn the key in the ignition", he continues.
I turn the key and the van starts.
"Thank you so much", I say relieved.
"Thanks man" Kirk says and gives him a quick pat on the back before his cousin heads off.

"So where are you heading off to next?" Kirk asks, as he leans his arm on the door of the camper van.
"You need a tour guide?" He continues.
"Sure, do you know of any tourist places?" I ask, as we both get into the camper van.
"I know of a lot of tourist places. The Golden Gate Bridge is one of them obviously".
"But to be honest" he continues, "I think it's given too much unnecessary attention, it's like any other regular bridge", he says jokingly.
"That's true" I say with a laugh, "I've always wondered why they named it The Golden Gate Bridge when it's red".
He laughs and stares at me with that look again, making the laughter die away and never breaking eye contact. I shyly look away from his intimidating gaze.
"I suppose it's only right for you to see The Golden Gate Bridge" he says, finally breaking the silence, "I'll give you the directions".
I smile shyly at him and we drive off on to the road. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy his company. It definitely beats being alone.