Me and San Francisco
Today, May Day, marks our three year anniversary. And like any good relationship, it feels infinitely longer, and also, as if it’s flown right by. From the beginning there were sparks. I loved to peek out the uppermost righthand corner of my studio’s kitchen window and take in the view of the Golden Gate. I could only make out the very highest tip of it’s first pillar, but it was all my mine. And it was bliss to discover that there is nothing as peaceful as wandering Green Apple on a Sunday afternoon. Nothing as satisfying as devouring an entire super quesadilla suiza from El Farolito after a wild night in the Mission or sipping a gimlet at Rye after work.
It’s true that it hasn’t always been perfect. There were those hit and runs a while back that left me annoyed, as you well know. And your terrible cab drivers and ridiculous wind, your summer crowds, your Friday afternoon traffic, your strange one-way streets. Still, I wouldn’t change it. Nope.
