Me and Peter go downtown. There are too many people at Williams-Sonoma. They’re out of the item I wanted. Crate & Barrel, The Cellar, nothing. I suggest the Gold Dust Lounge. $2.75 for an Irish Coffee, a Margarita, or a glass of champagne between 6am and 8pm. We call Al and he meets us there in the gold plated cubbyhole with cherubs and naked ladies on the ceiling. I know at the time it is too early to drink beer but we all drink beer anyway. Al leaves to mop his floor and we go to Powel station.
By the turnaround a sweaty black guy tap-dances on a half sheet of plywood to jazz from a boombox. A drunk tells us emphatically that he’s going to send a letter to NBC on Monday, to Brokaw, or maybe not Brokaw. Maybe Brokaw is retiring, but he’s going to write the letter on Sunday. He’s going to send it on Monday. He wants to see this tap dancer on Conan O’Brien in New York. He’d settle for Jay Leno down in Burbank, but where he’d really like to see him is Conan O’Brien. I wonder why he doesn’t mention David Letterman.
Inside a woman hold slides up, one by one, to the light of an illuminated iPod poster. A blind man plays hymns on an accordion. The sign in his donation box says “Jesus is the answer” and he talks gospel to a high-heeled Filipino woman. She scoots her Macy’s bag between her feet to protect it. We go to the platform.
When the train comes Peter is body checked by a 4 foot tall Chinese lady who doesn’t stop to check the damage. She hustles, head down. It’s 4pm on a Saturday. There are tons of empty seats.
Posted by allison at November 15, 2004 04:43 PMI've been body checked so many times on muni. it's taught me to be much more solid on my feet.
Posted by: Stephanie at November 15, 2004 10:59 PMsend to me more videas please
Posted by: king prince at March 11, 2006 03:13 AM