DO YOU COME HERE OFTEN?

We need to have more foggy nights in SF. I realized this when I considered what one could possibly say to a young lady with an extremely short dress and no panties sitting opposite me on the bus home from the bar. Fortunately it was not my problem; she was talking to her boyfriend, and there were plenty of other places to look. Like at the crazy woman diagonally across. Or the sulky goober in the other direction. Or the floor. My friend the bookseller may not have noticed these things, what with not being on the spectrum particularly far. And we had had a good time at the bar where we went after the burger.

For him: a pint of guiness and a shot of whiskey.
For me: two cups of hot tea.

Walking home from the bus I passed two young ladies wearing pants and sportsbras. Naturally I looked elsewhere. On a foggy night everyone would have been better dressed, and there would have been fewer of them on the bus or wandering around anyway.

I've kind of gotten used to the bare midriff look.
Not comfortable, but I understand it.

How else can you show off your belly button piercing?

Nowadays, I assure you, I no longer drop my pipe when I see nipples.

It took a while.

But the only women I can actually look in the face tend to be fully dressed. I would prefer small women in baggy clothing to baggy women in small clothing. There's just someting about constricting tightness and not enough fabric that strikes me as deliberately unbalanced. Obtuse, even.

Lit my pipe near a favourite chachanteng, finished smoking it several blocks away. Observed several Caucasians strolling through Chinatown during that time. Some of them expressing their unique individuality in habiliment and tatoos. As well as lapses of judgement.


Honestly, a woman in comfy corduroys and a rumpled sweater looks much more dignified and like a real person than someone exhibiting many parts. I stress this.


One of the Chinatown alleys is a dumping place for refuse on Tuesday nights because of the mahjong parlours, one of them has a Christian mission instead of any mahjong parlours and consequently is far cleaner and pleasanter, and one of them has smelly white street people dossing down amidst refuse when not acting far more individualistic than normal folks do. There are also several invisible people tormenting poor disequilibrious types.



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