SF cap and hoodie

When I lived in San Francisco, I was always chilly after, like, 3 p.m. The cold would settle down upon me like an existential cloud, and I would shudder through the streets, wondering what the hell I was doing in such a city, such a world. Why then didn't I carry around a nice cap and a hoodie - nothing more than a simple shell, really - like the one I'm wearing in this pic? I might have lasted more than a year there.

I flew to San Francisco from Portland to catch up with friends, and I went out to dinner with Joshie on my first night there. We had pizza and sundaes, and we spoke, as ex-lovers do, about the state of our lives, our hopes for the future, and real estate. Joshie took this pic of me on Market Street somewhere downtown, close to Lehman Brothers - where, years ago, Hilz and Dagsy and I would menace the office with our tales of debauchery and assemble Public Information Books for the bankers. Now Hilz is living somewhere over the Golden Gate Bridge in wedded bliss, and Dagsy is lost to me, and the world, forever, which I am still unbelievably saddened by. After dinner with Joshie, I took a cab up to Castro Street and then limped all the way down Market Street (my knee was acting up on this trip for some reason) to my hotel downtown.

When I lived in SF, I used to do this walk all the time. I would get loaded in the Castro, and then I would set out by foot down Market Street, braving the cold and the homeless, passing the Safeway and Sweet Inspirations, until I ended up home. I lived in the Mission for a bit, then in Nob Hill, and then finally, completing my downward spiral, in an SRO on Market Street. What else did I do in SF? I know I went to used book and record stores a lot. I spent a lot of time at the Trannyshack party at the Stud. I find it hard to remember other details, and when I think of my time in SF now, I think of the color of fog, before it burns off in the daylight.

I visited my old SRO - the "Chase Hotel" - on this trip. Van and I walked past it after a delicious breakfast at the "Little Griddle." I wonder if they still get mail for me at the SRO? I briefly wondered before I caught myself. It's probably just credit card offers now, or entreaties for money, or political tracts. "Little Griddle," "Public Information Book," "South of Market" - I don't know how to speak the language of SF any more. But every few years, I like to remind myself of why I once tried.