Oakland's Finest Fish Tacos And A Radish

Yesterday...

I grabbed one of those looong bikes from the warehouse to ride down San Pablo for some fish tacos.

It's one of my favorite things to do at lunch - hop on a Radish and cruise down the street to get something to eat. Sometimes I take my time and ride around the neighborhood and check out the "ladies of the night" to see what outfits are trendy that week and nod to the locals as I sip my coffee and cruise around trying to decide what to eat for lunch.



But yesterday, I knew that I wanted fish tacos. So I headed on out, straight down the boulevard, to the local taqueria.

It was warm out and so I'd worn a short sleeved t, shorts and flip flops to work. And I had my new hat on. And there I was, cruising down the street on a looong bike, one handed with my new hat on and not having a care in the world. Even the bus driver waved at me as he passed by.

And knowing that my fish tacos would fit nicely in the back, snug and upright in them Freeloader bags, and how I could still ride one handed on the way back sucking up my horchata through a nice wide straw, waving at my peeps made me all the more happy to be out.

So I slid up to the front of the shop, gracefully dismounted and quickly popped the lock through the triangle and around the tree. And off I went. Inside. For fish tacos. For eight minutes. And when I came back out. She was gone.

Mother fucker.

Just like that. Gone. Poor little Radish. Off on the ride of her life. Out there somewhere on the streets of Oakland. Or in someone's yard or alley. Or maybe delivering the goods. Or up on cinder blocks, behind the fence. Maybe wheels off. Snap deck torn off. Or out on the black market.

Somewhere out there.


And no one had seen anything. No one I asked, who'd been outside at the time had even noticed. Heads shook slowly from side to side.

Nothing.

And so I walked back to work. Down San Pablo carrying my fish tacos, sucking on my horchata with my new hat on. Down the street, past the ladies of the night. Past the church that promised to save me. Past the library with the bus stop in front. Past the old grocery store where the old timers hang out. Past Pizza Nation. Past the liquor store where the drive by started at. And I got the nod. And I nodded back.

And I went back to work and sat at my desk and ate my fish tacos and called it in. And even the guy who answered the desk phone at the OPD, the one who gave me the instructions about how to file a report online, sounded genuinely sorry about the stolen looong bike.


So if you see her, let me know. Don't try and steal her back, just say hey. Give her a snap deck a little stroke. Nod as she cruises by. Drink a horchata in honor.