Sunday, May 19, 2024


Please imagine hundreds of naked drunken people running uphill in the fog. It is bitterly cold. It is just after dawn. Can you picture it? Fair makes your skin crawl, doesn't it? Can't you just feel the cold clammy flesh, trembling, trembling ...

Being there in your mind is preferable to actually being there. The annual Bay To Breakers Race, that being one of San Francisco's famous nude drunken revelries.
Naturally I wasn't there.

Instead, I was waking up from a dream that took place on Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley, after the place had fallen into ruin and the giant lizards and jungle vines had taken over.
I was having a cup of strong coffee and a smoke.

The lizards, fortunately, did not believe in smoking restrictions indoors. A good thing given that it smelled like a foetid overgrown tropical swamp outside. Warmly rotten.
No potsmokers anywhere, though. That was a relief.

Berkeley in real life is full of potsmokers.

I felt like cheese for breakfast. Was that fondue place from years ago still around?
Their wine list had been unimpressive, but I do not drink anymore.
Their desserts were spectacular.
In short, while hundreds possibly thousands of my fellow Caucasians in San Francisco were getting plastered early in the morning, buck naked except for body paint that expressed their unique individuality and possibly several perversions, freezing their generously wattled pasty back-ends off, to loud party music while waiting for their turn to lumber into the swirls of fog and mercifully disappear from sight up Hayes Street Hill, I was waking up from a pleasant dream in which there was nothing eccentric or unusual. Probably everyone sometimes dreams of coffee and cheese! Normal people.

All in all I had a good day at work. It was quiet. Bay To Breakers affects the traffic all over the region, and many people stayed home waiting for the alien invasion to finally end.

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