my own Personal Belgium, vol. 264
i periodically nominate persons i see on the st. as King/Queen for a day of my own personal Belgium (which is a far more efficient method of governance than they have in the real Belgium, as the worlds most successful failed state just went 1½ years without a government.) and yesterday, there were two women vying for the position of Queen - as i was approaching the 16th & Mission BART station, i came upon two crazy women screaming at each other, being separated by police. they were having the sort of nonsensical, hysterical, babbling argument over minutiae that junkies seem to have, but what made them worthy of Queendom for a day was the fact that they were both wearing tiaras.
i couldnt decide at the time which one got the honour. i was in a hurry, i had a tourney to goto and play terrible in ...
so come today, i am standing on the corner of Castro & 18th st., waiting for the 24 Divis bus. there are a trio of nudists standing kitty korner across the st., and i am waiting at the stop with a church school group. it speaks to how long i have lived in S.F. that the school group looks more out of place. there are like 13-15 of them, altogether, all H.S. age + 2 chaperones, and they give off the telltale signs of visiting church school groups, in that they all have matching green shirts with uplifting slogans on them, they all have perfect teeth and “oh golly shucks” sensibilities, and the kids all stare across the st. at the nudists, wildly amused, while the aghast adults try to distract them somehow.
anyway, they get on the 24 Divis and one of them sits next to me, a 17ish girl with brown hair. the others all stand and the chaperones are right there near me, standing in the aisle with a folded out map in their hands, which they turn about in an attempt to make sense of where theyre going.
“OK kids,” Mr. Chaperone says. “we stay on this bus until we get to Ellsworth & Cortland.”
“um,” i pipe up as we cross Market St. “thats the other way.”
“excuse me?” he says to me and then looks at his map, shakes his head. “no, this is right.”
O, so the tourist is going to tell the local which way is correct? excuse me?
“its back the other way,” i say to him, “you want the 24 heading southbound.”
the girl beside me rolls her eyes as the chaperones consult.
“OK kids, off at the next stop!”
grumble grumble grumple adults are useless grumble grumble ...
so we stop at 14th St. and they all get off the bus - all except for the girl who is sitting beside me, who just watches them all depart. as the bus doors close, they realize they dont have everyone, of course, and start waving frenzily towards the driver who zones out and ignores them.
“they are SO BORING,” she says to me, rolling her eyes again and shaking her head. her iPhone then rings and she silences the call.
“so," she says, her afternoon suddenly free and clear, "is there anything cool up this direction?”
i point her to a record store on Divis and she hops out to go check it out. yes, she ditched her school group! she is my hero for the day. i hereby declare her Queen for a Day.
i couldnt decide at the time which one got the honour. i was in a hurry, i had a tourney to goto and play terrible in ...
so come today, i am standing on the corner of Castro & 18th st., waiting for the 24 Divis bus. there are a trio of nudists standing kitty korner across the st., and i am waiting at the stop with a church school group. it speaks to how long i have lived in S.F. that the school group looks more out of place. there are like 13-15 of them, altogether, all H.S. age + 2 chaperones, and they give off the telltale signs of visiting church school groups, in that they all have matching green shirts with uplifting slogans on them, they all have perfect teeth and “oh golly shucks” sensibilities, and the kids all stare across the st. at the nudists, wildly amused, while the aghast adults try to distract them somehow.
anyway, they get on the 24 Divis and one of them sits next to me, a 17ish girl with brown hair. the others all stand and the chaperones are right there near me, standing in the aisle with a folded out map in their hands, which they turn about in an attempt to make sense of where theyre going.
“OK kids,” Mr. Chaperone says. “we stay on this bus until we get to Ellsworth & Cortland.”
“um,” i pipe up as we cross Market St. “thats the other way.”
“excuse me?” he says to me and then looks at his map, shakes his head. “no, this is right.”
O, so the tourist is going to tell the local which way is correct? excuse me?
“its back the other way,” i say to him, “you want the 24 heading southbound.”
the girl beside me rolls her eyes as the chaperones consult.
“OK kids, off at the next stop!”
grumble grumble grumple adults are useless grumble grumble ...
so we stop at 14th St. and they all get off the bus - all except for the girl who is sitting beside me, who just watches them all depart. as the bus doors close, they realize they dont have everyone, of course, and start waving frenzily towards the driver who zones out and ignores them.
“they are SO BORING,” she says to me, rolling her eyes again and shaking her head. her iPhone then rings and she silences the call.
“so," she says, her afternoon suddenly free and clear, "is there anything cool up this direction?”
i point her to a record store on Divis and she hops out to go check it out. yes, she ditched her school group! she is my hero for the day. i hereby declare her Queen for a Day.