Omid moved to London today, so I decided yesterday was as good a time as any to skip work and spend the day romping around town with Omid's perfectly coiffed hair instead.
On Wednesday I spent a leisurely morning in bed and strolled over to Omid's just in time for lunch.
The weather couldn't have been better timed to make Omid second-guess leaving, as well as for a top-down drive with friends--including the canine supermodel--to go get sandwiches.
This lovely number is from Ike's Place on 16th Street for anyone who's curious. This was my first time there but I imagine they'll know me on a first-name basis shortly. I had the Pilgrim, and my only regret is that I didn't order two.
After lunch we decided the only thing that could help cure our Omid-separation anxiety was more food, so off to Souvla in Hayes Valley it was for frozen yogurt topped with baklava and honey. Ask for extra syrup. Trust.
I then pretended to help Omid pack while really just sulking. Packing then took the shape of dancing to Shy'm and thinking about what to eat for dinner because we're responsible adults, is why.
What, I ask you, is a proper dinner without aperitifs first? Had at our old standby, Blackbird, so we could reminisce over our Omid memories while properly sloshed.
This was followed by the last supper at Super Duper, because we're San Franciscans and if it's tech-savvy and fried, we'll shove it in our face and love every last bit of it.
Followed by more drinks at Toad Hall, Omid's last hurrah in the Castro.
...and then owning the dance floor.
Followed by more drinks and tearful goodbyes.
Bon voyage, Omid! Say hi to Prince Harry for me.