Monday, November 30, 2009
Friday, 8:35 p.m., 16th Mission - Haight Fillmore
What exactly is one's obligation here?
He was thin, malnourished, or, perhaps, nourished on all the wrong things.
He had a cane that he didn't really use, although, he moved slow shaking with each step.
If you gave E.T. the crack-cocaine for 20 years and laid him in the sun in an alley way, well, you get the idea.
As he stands to exit at 16th and Guerrero, I can already see what will happen. Three wobbly steps toward the bus exhaling closer to the ground for an easier exit and WHOOP! pants below the ass.
Full moon charred E.T. ass for all to see.
And he doesn't know. But, we do.
I'd tell you if you have a booger hangin' on the front porch, if your zipper is down, if there are small, cotton undies stuck to your sweater or if there is a trail of toilie on your shoe. But, something kept me six rows back from jumping up to pull up this man's pants and we all just looked away.