Timeline to Eternity (cause nine-thirty p.m. just doesn't have the same ring to it)

I wasted a lot of your time and probably left you with deep grooves in your head (from the scratching), that is only if you managed to read the entirety of my other reflection which I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. So I’ll keep this one short and sweet like its subject Lawrence Farlinghetti, an old teddy bear of a man who was one of the founding fathers of the beat poetry movement in San Francisco. In fact I won’t even write in complete sentences I’ll just give you a timeline of my adventure in bullet point format:
• 6:10- depart Berkeley with hair-brained friend, 30 minutes behind my suggested departure time, just squeezing ourselves onto the packed Fremont train before the doors shut
• 6:15- five minutes into a “whose a later person” argument with my clueless friend who, I might add, is always late for everything; also five minutes since everyone in our vicinity began hating us even more than the oversized handlebars on our cumbersome bikes
• 6:20- interrupt my rambling friend to remind him we have to transfer at the next station
• 6:45- arrive at civic center station at the time I recommended we get to City Lights Book Store where Farlinghetti is speaking about his new book and official post as poet laureate for all of San Francisco
• 7:00- leave civic center on a 2 mile bike ride to Broadway St. wondering where the last 15 minutes went (only he wondered though, I knew it was his slow ass cheeks’ fault)
• 7:15- arrive at the locked and closed book store to my friend’s utter disbelief and my own expectations, look longingly through the apparently soundproof glass window at the legendary poet’s lips open and close for what could be the very last time in such a public setting (he’s kind of old and withering away)
• 7:17- after locking up our bikes in a shady alley my clumsy friend nearly drops the key down a gutter but it miraculously manages to stay perilously perched on one of the thin grates, proving once again that God watches out for his most careless creations
• 7:30- enter the Beat museum across the street after spending 13 minutes and utilizing countless logical, moral, and economic arguments to dissuade my horny friend from entering the most haggard-looking strip club on the corner of Broadway and Chinatown.
• 8:30- after a glorious tour of the museum in which we learned all about the exploits and writings of famous poets like Allen Ginsburg and authors like Jack Kerouac who were the heart and soul of the sixties counter-culture, free-speech movements my good friend and walk up to the shopkeeper with heightened spirits and buy a fascinating book about eastern philosophy and meditation we decide to share call “Live in the Now.”
• ? – lost track of time as we headed back home to Berkeley