Quieter

To Waitress #1:

"I'm going to sit over there."

"An orange juice please."

"Yes. #8, bacon, eggs scrambled."

"No thanks."

"Could I get a decaf?"

"Thanks."

To Waitress #2.

"Hi, how have you been?"

"Good to see you. Yes, I've been busy. You?"

"Seen any movies?"

"Yeah, I'm supposed to go see it with a friend later tonight."

"Yeah, at Embarcadero."

"Is it? That's cool."

"I didn't see that one. I had free passes but I decided to skip it."

"No thanks."

"No, I'm good. Just the check."

"See ya."

To the barber.

"Um, short on the sides and back. Just thin out the top."

"Actually, I think I want it shorter. It's usually spikey, I only comb it over when it gets long."

"Korean."

"Grew up here. You?"

"I thought you were Latino."

"Midwest. Came here seven years ago."

"Yeah, that looks good."

"Thanks."

"Just gimme a five."

To the guy behind the ice cream counter at Joe's Ice Cream:

"I'd like a waffle cone with Strawberry and Coffee."

"Two scoops."

"Can you put the strawberry on the bottom?"

"Thanks."

Einer's diner:

"A diet coke, and two pieces of fish. For here."

"Okay."

At the bookstore.

"Cash."

"Nope."

Posted by at 8:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

on the bus on the way home tonight, I saw this dad and kid getting on at Fillmore. They had obviously just been to see a movie, because the dad was throwing away a nacho tray. the kid quickly grabbed the remaining nacho bits in his hand before his dad could throw the tray away.

and then the kid poured the chip crumbs into his pocket.

Posted by at 11:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

On the way home tonight, walking up Fremont towards Market, a man in a bright red wig and a red dress ran in front of me.

Passersby stared as he jay-ran across the street. I made eye contact with a lady walking towards me and we both burst into laughter.

That felt good.

I got to the bus stop on Market and I saw several more red dressed runners. I managed to get some pics with my phone.

I looked it up, and of course it is the SF Hash House Harriers, doing their annual Red Dress Race. First time I ever saw it.

It was pretty funny.

Posted by at 7:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Wow, a pretty crazy bus ride home today.

I got on at Montgomery. Sat in back, a wiry Chinese guy was taking up two seats because he had a big backpack still on. So I sat in the seat ahead of him. He didn't really notice how much room he was taking up.

Bus was packed by Union Square. The bus pulled over twice over 3 light cycles to let screaming fire trucks by. A rescue truck pulled to a stop just opposite Macys.

From my seat I could see 5 other people with headphones, carefully shutting out the crowds.

At Powell several people pushed their way aboard. A lean black guy dove for the seat taken by the lanky Chinese guy's backpack. And complained and pushed and wedged into the seat.

Lurching up to Jones, Lanky and Lean moved towards the door. Lanky Chinese guy looked to be new to Muni (and English and manners) and didn't know to step down. Mr. Lean turned mean, and shoved the backpack guy aside. Too late, though. Doors closed.

So Mr. Lean pounds and screams and yells. "BACK DOOR! BACK DOOOR!!" Driver opens the door. Lean tumbles out.

Lanky backpacker gets out, too. He's steamed. I can't quite see. But then I see Lean dancing away, fists raised. And Lanky has thrown off his backpack, and started swinging wildly.

Kid: "If I had a camera I would post pics on the Internet." Driver pulls away.

In the commotion I didn't notice the bum who boarded. Man. Stinky. Then old Chinese guy started mumbling at the bum. I was wondering if there would be another fight. I think old Chinese guy was muttering about the smell, but his mannerisms suggested crazy old guy, so we all stayed clear.

The iPod contingent all traded glances. How crazy could this ride get?

At Van Ness, a short asian man sat down across from me. His face had several large lumpy growths, and his upper lip extended out from his jaw by about 3 inches. It was somewhat grotesque. I tried not to stare,but I couldn't help glancing over my book a few times. He scratched his nose a few times, which was wnormous and rubbery. No idea what condition he had, but it must be horrible to endure.

My fellow headphone wearers got off the bus. I wonder if they went home and told their friends about this crazy bus ride, too.

Posted by at 7:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I caught a cab this morning on 3rd and Geary.

I thought he might be Jamaican, but he's from Nigeria. Twelve years in SF. By way of Boston and New Jersey, it turns out. No wonder I can barely understand him.

He guesses I'm Chinese, or Korean. Pretty good eye.

The stereo is on loud, and he turns it down. He asks me what kind of music I like. "This is fine," I say. Pause. "What is it?"

Jazz. KKSF. "Listen to the words, they're funny." he says. And they are. Some song about shoppers, Natalie Cole asking if love is more fun than shopping.

It's 9 am, and he rolls the dial over. Some Beethoven Symphony now, Eroica, I think. At the right volume to be peppy and energetic. Classical music needs volume, too, so when they hit the forte, you pay attention.

Construction on O'Farrell. I comment "Wow, they really are paving this road!" Yeah, the cabbie says, the mayor's doing a good job. I like him, he's a nice guy. He rode in my cab once, was really friendly.

"Are you married?" he asks. "No, I'm blissfully single." He rants a bit about women, which is my all time favorite taxi driver rant.

He shakes his head. "Women are trouble. All they are good for is sex. And you give and you give..."

I start: "And what they want"

"But they don't even know what they want. They don't even know. Better off without them. Now where should I drop you? Left corner?"

Posted by at 9:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)