Thursday, 10 p.m., 16th Mission - Haight Fillmore

To be honest I made the choice not to sit next to her.

I was smelly, but she looked smelly. She had fewer teeth than tribal citizens being immortalized by the HGP. So, I stood and hung on and tried to look past myself through the window out into the night.





A man drunk from celebrating another long day of what appears to be construction work boarded.

"I have tattoos too," he said pointing at the scribbles on my underarm. Stumbling down the aisle he lifted his shirt sleeve.

He put his head far too close to my armpit which for my entire life has resided directly next to my left tit.

"What's it saaaaaay?" And I pulled my arm down.

"Nothing. A secret," I responded, eyes deadpan.

"Coooome on," he slurred, dangling like an orangutan.

And then, "It says 'Leave her the fuck alone." The woman sitting to my right, next to a vacant seat, piped up.

"That's prolly what it says? Yeah?" she asks me.

"Actually, yes," I said smiling down at her and taking a seat. "That's exactly what it says."

I'm sorry. Sometimes on the Deuce Deuce I have a hard time looking past myself.

Thank you, lovely lady.