I would have to ask Colin "Kap" Kaepernick, who is also called Bo, Kap, or Jafar...(and lately he is being called "Mr. Everything" which creates a perfect image of him in our minds every time we hear of his exploits on the NFL field)...to pick me up because I have no idea what kind of car he has now that he is a star in San Francisco. I'd ask him out of my curiosity, you know? Maybe he still drives his dad's old Jeep.
The first place I would direct him to is the San Francisco zoo to show him the tattoos of the zebras, the leopards, and the rare, colorful butterflies. Maybe witness Kap do a staredown with the dominant leopard on a showdown who has the best tattoos. It would leave Kap wishing he is back on the field throwing missles, because I myself tried to stare down a Tiger last October at the zoo, and the tiger was unmovable, staring back at me. The tiger's eyes actually sparkled, you know that eerie eye shining even in the dark? It got to a point I finally looked away regardless of the fact the tiger was caged safely out of reach. Besides I didn't have a tattoo to boast about.
Last stop at the zoo was where the turtoise was. Just wanted him to enjoy comparing the turtoises to his own pet turtoise, to get Kap into a talkative mood..believe it or not, I know how to get people going with conversations. I even point out mismatched coat buttons just to get a conversation going. "Did your mom just randomly pick a button to fix your coat?" I'd ask. What gets people caught off guard is I am pretty observative.
Next destination is the Russian Hill in San Francisco, not before I take him to Little Italy, to my favorite restaurant Mona Lisa, because every year on my birthday the owner always gives me the best bottle of wine on the house. White wine, of course. For all these years being served a free bottle to take home, I would reward him with an appearance by Kap. The owner might just start giving me $500 bottles from now on, as Kap would do the trick. Just a friendly teaser to the owner, much love to him.
After the hearty meal at Mona Lisa, and one bottle for each of us to take home, I would take him to Lombardi road, the famous most crooked road in the world. I would get straight to the point, and tell him to run it in 4.59 seconds to prove to me that he is the real deal. I wine and dine him, have him engage in a showdown with the most glaring leopard over the baddest tattoos, and even would teach him some signs to communicate with the monkeys at the zoo so I would expect a little something from him, at least he could do a sprint for me.
Of course, I am not going to race him, as I would stumble over the flowers on the world's most crooked road while he leaps over every turn.
Last stop would be to the Apple store, not to show him off but perhaps get the manager to take higher priority to solve my ipad's sign in problem. I forgot my password, you know, and the Apple store is always so crowded so I haven't gotten around to taking care of the matter with my ipad. When you bring the greater San Francisco bay area's favorite celebrity (which Kap is), the store manager is sure to kiss your ass. Kap will be my friend, but he will also be my enforcer.
Finally he takes me home and takes out of his car trunk some real cool Christmas gifts for my two kids to put under my Christmas tree.
I would tell him, "thanks for being a Santa to my kids. As for me, don't give me anything. Just take the football to the house every game and bring us a Super Bowl trophy."
I tell him, "It is called the Lombardi Trophy." His eyes look puzzled, experiencing some kind of Deja Vu.
We were just at Lombardi street, the world's most crooked street, you know?
Nice to give him a Super Bowl metaphor on the day he spends with me.