That guy must really need a smoke, to go outside in his bathrobe at this time of day…
That’s what I thought when I noticed him.
I was on a long walk to an event last night. Lots of walking in San Francisco, trying to avoid the big traffic and the impossible parking.
Maybe you know that there are hills in San Francisco. Lots and lots of hills. On a typical day my Fitbit shows I’ve climbed the equivalent of 50 flights of stairs. That’s a normal day. Just going around the corner and up to the dog park gets me at least five flights. Many especially steep hills, have actual stairs in the sidewalk.
My sport of the moment is to see if I can beat the Apple Maps estimated walking time–52 minutes to the Castro Theater–so I was huffing away on Laguna towards Market.
Thus, the first part of saw bathrobe dude that I saw were his feet. He was wearing those inexpensive black plastic flip flops. Next I caught the hairy bare legs…ginger hair…and moving up, the belted black bathrobe. It was 5:30 in the afternoon.
Bathrobe? Really? At this time of night? Weird. I’m used to unusual attire of course, living in San Francisco, but still odd. He wasn’t smoking, though, just seemed to be standing, getting some fresh air.
And then I walked by the sign on the building:
And that monkey mind of mine did a double pirouette and started prancing down an entirely different path of assumptions.
Part of a series, Moments.