While reading Metroblogging San Francisco’s “Scenes from a park” during my lunch break, I found myself nodding in agreement. I really had no idea what San Francisco was like until I went out on a few dates with the MSG. The City has always been a part of our relationship, from the restaurant where we had our first meal together, to the farmer’s market we shop nearly every Saturday morning.
Not too long ago, I stood on the corner on which we met for the first time in person. That night, I was on the corner, desperately looking for the bar, because it was supposed to be Right There. I couldn’t find it, but that isn’t saying much; I get lost in downtown San Rafael. No matter which way I turned on that corner, I could not find the bar, or my date, or anything. I began to feel foolish. My new shoes were hurting my feet and the air was brisk and I was extremely nervous. So I called his mobile and said, “Where are you?”
He replied, calm as ever, “Walking toward you.”
Okay, my eyesight is not all that great, but it’s better than my sense of direction, and I could not see anyone walking toward me in any direction.
“I don’t see you!” I was probably a bit shrill at this point, but my cool had already been lost hours before. “Where are you?”
I could tell he was smiling. “Relax. You’ll see me in a minute.” There was a pause. “I see you.”
Now I was whirling around frantically. “Where? WHERE?!”
He just said, “Here.” And that’s when I saw him walking toward me from a half a block away.
“O,” I said lamely, and we hung up our phones. Seconds later, we’d hug warmly and I’d breathe in the scent of his leather jacket and shampoo and skin, and I’d wonder how long was appropriate for a first hug, and before I could start to get paranoid I’d turn my head and the bar would be right there, right there in my face, signless but obviously a drinking establishment. Here. I closed my eyes for just a moment, then took a deep breath and went inside.