Andy, Ron & Maryam’s Madcap Misadventure
Sunday, December 6th, 2009 by Maryam Webster
This is my good buddy Andy Wibbels. He lives in San Francisco and works at Six Apart, the folks who bring you TypePad, Moveable Type and Vox. We’ve built our businesses together and been friends for years – ever since his very first Easy Bake Weblogs class in 2003. If I had little brothers, they would be Andy and his partner Ron.
Andy btw, is holding a boxed set of Seth Godin’s books that Seth sent him out of the blue this week. What a smile maker! Seth, ya scored big there.

Anyway, every time Andy and I get together it ends up being like an episode of Animaniacs. All photos taken of us together show complete silliness & often caffeine-fueled manic laughter. I’m rocking the asylum here after a tour of Six Apart, and talking blogging, speaking, product and class creation and general shop.
This was after dinner…and before the cognitive dissonance that later ensued… Dinner was at French restaurant Fringale (excellent) on 3rd, and thought I’d found a great garage under the Hearst building. Just a half block from the boys’ flat in the trendy part of Mission (just across the street from SFMOMA). What could be simpler? The sign said “closes at midnight” but I knew I’d be back before then.
Mind that, because assumption that people will do what they say is crucial to the madcap part of the evening. Fringale was great, even if my haricots verts were a tad underdone. The lambchop (which I have only a crappy picture of, sorry) was excellent as was the gluten-free flourless chocolate cake (like lava or mousse cake – omg) and a very perky cappucino. All in all – I’ll go back and take The Bear. 
We take a beautiful ten minute walk back to Andy & Ron’s place, passing through Yerba Buena Gardens and ending up in this lovely view of the SF MOMA building all lit up for the holidays. It gets all cosy back at the plantantion with Ron’s enthusiastic telling of Filipino ghost stories and the mountain his family owns that sports its own hot spring and fumarole.
The time drew short so the boys were kind enough to walk me to my car. I paid the attendant and the fellows mention there’s no pedestrian exit.
There was no auto egress either, and now is where we descend gently into the madcap portion of the evening.
It’s a tale of roundy-ramp walking, yelling back and forth to other inmates, trapped behind their own chainlink curtains, searching for an emergency phone number or exit, finding none and finally calling 911.
I got a very nice dispatcher on the line who commiserated with me and promised not to leave us there all night. She got a car to come right away, which was amazing in a city like San Francisco on a Saturday night where there are just as likely to be knife fights, meth labs and killer disco to police. Kudos to ya, lady dispatcher.
Thank you as well to the officers of SFPD car 1257 who came, laughed at us just a wee bit (all in good fun, we were laughing too by that time – in the sheer terror of relief) and sprung us by summoning the California Pizza Kitchen manager who was still at work and had his own key.
Ron and I went up the roundy-ramp to get to the bathrooms and who should we see but the clerk who took our money. “WHERE WERE YOU AND WHY DID YOU LOCK US IN” got no reply but confused burbling. He keyed us into the gents though, and came down to apologize for locking up before we’d left. By then the cops and the CPK guy had done the business and Andy had the Murano pointed out of the garage and ready to go.
Cue more hugs and agreeing that we escaped lightly considering in many cities they’d let you sit until morning. In San Francisco on a Saturday night there were surely other more serious crimes like the knife fights, meth lab explosions and serial-killer disco of the Castro sprouting like dragon’s teeth on a field of bloodmeal.
But the police man and woman were prompt, professional, courteous and rescued our stranded butts. Kudos SFPD. Respect.
But the madcappery wasn’t finished. After dropping the boys off at their flat I took 280 which was clear as a bell until a fog giant slapped a meaty arm down on the tarmac ’round about Pacifica, and followed it with a leg and half his body. Socked in completely up through my Woodside exit, traffic slowed to a 25 mph crawl.
Fortunately, I was listening to a really good exposé on KQED done by the Brazilian arm of GreenPeace, on the Amazon rainforest environmental scofflaws. They were kicking ass and naming names like Adidas, Nike and McDonalds. They know exactly where these companies are slashing and burning the Amazon to grow meat and leather product cattle. And they’re outting the big box companies.
*yes*
I tracked the group when I got home – go here and read more:
http://www.greenpeace.org/international/news/busted-in-brazil100100
http://www.greenpeace.org/international/press/releases/with-just-10-days-left-to-aver
And that’s about a typical Saturday night in San Francisco with good buddies, good food, good conversation and a bitchin’ police force. Peace out y’all.








































