The title's a joke because the burrito place was on 24th and Mission in the Mission district. I'M CLEVER~!

On Boat Day(TM), aka the day where I was drunk for ~14 hours straight, the finale of the evening was at some shady looking Mexican restaurant in a part of San Francisco I was unfamiliar with. Not that I would've known where I was anyways, I had just had something called an "Aviator" (it was alright, iirc). But while I was there, I had quite possibly the most delicious hunk of Americanized Mexican food of all time. Today - utilizing all my available means of free transportation - I sought that place back out, a certain El Farolito, to see if it was just the drunkenness or if it really was that good. I took the scenic route getting there, so begins my visual tale.

And so, after much trekking and a lot of cursing the people who built their city on a fucking cliff, I arrived at the promised land. And let me tell you, that burrito was just as awesome as I was hoping it'd be. And super cheap too, only ~$7 for the burrito and a Sprite.

I debated at this point whether I should literally walk the ten steps down to BART for my return trip or walk back home and attempt to exercise off the guilt. I chose the latter and I'm kind of glad I did. I didn't realize it on the initial part of the trip, but I'd had my back to the bay the entire time. So as I summited the last hill, I was greeted with a rather picturesque sight.

San Francisco is run down, shit covered, piss scented, creepy bitch of a city, but if you find the right spots, it can be downright beautiful. Still...