After all the food and fun of our anniversary weekend in San Fransisco, it was time for MQ and me to bid farewell to the city by the bay. We wanted to make a few more stops on our way out of town. First on the list was Musee Mecanique, a wonderful collection of coin operated, mechanical instruments and arcade amusements. This was on MQ’s list but I thought it would be BOR-ING. Boy was I wrong! This place is chock full of creepy and bizarro stuff, just my cup of tea!
Check out this weird lookin’ fellow who dances for a quarter!
And this drunk guy who looks so real except for his dead eyes. Fun and disturbing!
I know someone who belongs in here!
This one hardly seems appropriate! Watch those hands, mister!
I had to test out the career pilot. The answer it gave me was dead on…
It told me I would be a MOOCHER! I knew it!
MQ got into a fierce arm-wrestling match with this luchador and nearly had his arm ripped off (no joke! He was sore for a whole day after this!)
The very best thing about the Musee Mecanique is that it has dozens of fortune tellers! You know those gypsies and wizards and palm readers that sit in glass coffins waiting for your quarter to bring them to life to wave their disembodied hand over a crystal ball then spit out a tiny cardboard fortune? I LIVE for those things. Every time I hit an amusement park or boardwalk, I have to get my fortune.
Hmmmmm. Very wise, very accurate, don’ t you think?
I am always finding my fortunes in the pockets of old jackets or jean shorts that haven’t been worn in years. I got my fortune told no fewer than 7 times at the Musee Mecanique. I would have gotten more but I ran out of quarters.
Once MQ ran out of quarters too, we decided to get some sustenance. The Musee is at the pier and is surrounded by tourist trap seafood restaurants begging you to come in and GET CRABS. I was happy to oblige.
Ooooh Baby! You know it’s gonna be a good meal if it requires a bib! My crabs were delicious and fresh and buttery and garlicky and mmmmmm… I wish I had some right now! I couldn’t stuff myself too much because I knew in a few short hours it would be time for some pea soup.
Pea Soup Andersen’s is one of the reasons I never want to fly to San Francisco. I have been known to eat at Pea Soup Andersen’s on the way up north AND on the way back down to L.A. I love it there.
That’s the stuff! It’s impossible to describe the flavor of pea soup. I didn’t try it until I was in my twenties, I was frightened by it’s garish color and off-putting thickness but once I tried it, I was hooked!
After being good and ordering only ONE bowl instead of the bottomless bowl I usually get, MQ and I got into the car and made our way back to sunny, smoggy L.A.
The end. Of that story.
