This Sunday the city will experience the madness of naked people running. As well as leather-garbed prom-queens, giant alligators, and Xena Warrior Princess - probably all of them overweight men.
No, I shall not view the zany antics.
I have managed to miss the Bay to Breakers race for several years, why ruin a winning streak?
Mentally I shall applaud the lanky strapping Kenians who inevitably will lead, but I shan't actually physically cheer them on. The race starts at seven in the morning, which is when most normal people will be hanging seriously over.
That's far too early even for me.
I do not plan to get up much before ten in any case.
Coffee, shave and shower, and out of the house with tobacco products, for a leisurely stroll across Nob Hill. Perhaps daydreaming as I cross the hill of meeting a small female person with bright eyes and a sparkling brain whom I might spontaneously invite to lunch - my fantasy love life is more real at this point than any prospects of actually having a love life again - then descending into Chinatown for a light feast of snackipoos.
I expect that this quadrant of the city will be delightfully peaceful.
No naked men. No large furry things, giant green amazons, or string bikinis.
Should be very pleasant for strolling.
Charming company would be nice, but I'm okay with walking alone.
I can always stop to smell the flowers. I'm not going anywhere.
The rest of you, go have a good time at the race.
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