So I spent last weekend is San Fransisco and all I have to say is I fucken love the city.
Case in point 1:
Walking to Cafe Neon- I spot Rasta Man. Authentic Rasta Man, dark mahagony skin. Mid-50s, about 6 foot 3, dreads down his back, army type pants, loose white linen shirt. He's walking his bike, and has a smile that rivals the sunshine for warmth- teeth gleaming white. Mary, Jen and I can't help but smile back at him.
"Ladies," says Rasta man, "is it not a beautiful day?" Lilting voice, soft on the vowels, like music.
"Yes it is, " We say in unison.
"The sun is shining, the people are happy, and everything is beautiful. Do you not feel lucky to be alive?" He is still smiling. He lifts his arms to take in his surroundings, and to me it seems as if he is hugging the world. The Skinny Victorian houses, perfect in their crooked stances, the garish colors everywhere, the hodge podge mix of people, the sunshine filtering through the marine layer and pouring itself onto the streets. Mary and Jen are smiling at one another, then looking around them, seeing their home through the rose tinted eyes of Rasta Man.
Rasta Man looks at us. "Eax hof you are beautiful. Beautiful women. You are beautiful," He is looking at Jen. Then Mary, "You are beautiful." Then me, "You are beautiful." Then all of us, " I love you." He flashes us his blazing teeth one more time, hops up onto his bike and pedals away.
We are somewhat shell shocked. We start walking again.
I punch Mary's arm. " You know he meant he loved me, right?"
"No way bi-otch! That one was for me!" She clutches at her breast. " We had a connection, I felt it." She flips her blonde hair at me while flipping the bird at the same time.
Jen turns around- "Well, he only told you guys you were beautiful after me, becuase he felt bad for you all... "
We all laugh and link arms.
Time to hit the bar.
Case in point 1:
Walking to Cafe Neon- I spot Rasta Man. Authentic Rasta Man, dark mahagony skin. Mid-50s, about 6 foot 3, dreads down his back, army type pants, loose white linen shirt. He's walking his bike, and has a smile that rivals the sunshine for warmth- teeth gleaming white. Mary, Jen and I can't help but smile back at him.
"Ladies," says Rasta man, "is it not a beautiful day?" Lilting voice, soft on the vowels, like music.
"Yes it is, " We say in unison.
"The sun is shining, the people are happy, and everything is beautiful. Do you not feel lucky to be alive?" He is still smiling. He lifts his arms to take in his surroundings, and to me it seems as if he is hugging the world. The Skinny Victorian houses, perfect in their crooked stances, the garish colors everywhere, the hodge podge mix of people, the sunshine filtering through the marine layer and pouring itself onto the streets. Mary and Jen are smiling at one another, then looking around them, seeing their home through the rose tinted eyes of Rasta Man.
Rasta Man looks at us. "Eax hof you are beautiful. Beautiful women. You are beautiful," He is looking at Jen. Then Mary, "You are beautiful." Then me, "You are beautiful." Then all of us, " I love you." He flashes us his blazing teeth one more time, hops up onto his bike and pedals away.
We are somewhat shell shocked. We start walking again.
I punch Mary's arm. " You know he meant he loved me, right?"
"No way bi-otch! That one was for me!" She clutches at her breast. " We had a connection, I felt it." She flips her blonde hair at me while flipping the bird at the same time.
Jen turns around- "Well, he only told you guys you were beautiful after me, becuase he felt bad for you all... "
We all laugh and link arms.
Time to hit the bar.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
thanx!!!!!!!!!!
Im pretty sure that u r 1000 times better than a man
lets keep in touch
keep it rockin'
love anita