I was in love with a girl in junior high school. Her name was Tracy. Brunette cowgirl with breasts too big for thirteen. I put on aftershave for the farewell dance. Crimson and Clover started playing, the last slow song of the night. Cooper swooped in on her and stole my only chance to ever hold her in my arms.
I was thinking about this as I crossed the Bay Bridge. I work in San Francisco a lot. It’s a beautiful city. Every time I drive across the bridge I’m blown away. So I’m sorry I didn’t include the pictures of Coit Tower and the Golden Gate Bridge and that giant ugly boner known as Rincon Tower.
Today I was working in Little Saigon. Above are the pictures of this job. The name of the establishment is The Magazine. They sell a ton of used magazines–gay ones and straight porn and travel and collectible editions of stuff I’ve never heard of. It boggles the mind how much random DNA must be on the printed material inside these walls. While I was talking to the proprietor to coordinate the work, there was a stack of “Big Ass” magazines on the counter. The cover, believe it or not, had a close-up of a big ass (so as not to be confused with Small Ass magazine).
Excellent target marketing.
Mostly I work in Pac Heights and upper-class neighborhoods–but not always. The city can be a pain in the ass if you’re working here—parking tickets and delivery trucks and bike couriers. A few days ago I worked on the 22nd floor of new construction on Broadway and Columbus—southern part of North Beach. Ballpark’s not too far and you can almost touch Coit Tower.
But not this time. This time I got dirty and junkie. Sidewalks soaked with piss. Stench of Third World sewers. Sometimes I have to get my hands dirty and work for The Man (in this case an older bespectacled gentleman and his boyfriend).
Part of what I had to do was mortar back the 100-year-old marble base molding at the front of the building, along with some little terrazzo work by the door. I always try to take BEFORE and AFTER pics. I won’t be using these on the website.
The bum laying here was right in front of the door where I needed to work. The proprietor got nervous whenever I left anything on the sidewalk—I mean, he was afraid someone would steal my bucket of mortar water. Yet surprisingly, all the pimps, hookers and bums left my dirty water alone.
The bum wouldn’t wake up, so I had to pull him out of the way. I thought his coat was pretty cool, or had been at one time. Whenever I see someone in this condition, it makes me wonder how he got to this point, this very day, laying on the sidewalk with me pulling him by the ankles to get him away from the door.
It’s like playing with a wasp. I don’t know if he’s going to wake crazy, or not wake up, or a cop’s going to come over and think I’m dragging a dead guy into the street. I don’t have these problems in Pac Heights. Rich people pass out on chaise longues.
Driving back over the bridge, I thought about Tracy again, in the light of those cagey gym lights, Crimson and Clover playing over and over.
I never got to touch her. I never got to dance with her. I sure as hell never got to drag her by the ankles anywhere.
I waited too long. Let that Cooper bastard get to her first.
Wasted good aftershave.
And now, an Original Music Video by the Author!
You do nice work! With mortar AND with passed out bum removal.
Did you take any new-to-you magazines home?
Uh, no. I think stroke books should be purchased new, still in the cellophane. I guess I’m a purist.
Well at least it wasn’t Big Ass magazine that reminded you of Tracy.
She was top heavy for sure.
I would have guess a high correlation among big-breast teen crush, a junkie, mortar work, Big Ass magazine, and the great sites of the city by the bay … but lo and behold, my friend Les makes the connection!
BTW – SF is one of my favorites cities. Get me to North Beach and let me eat! Cheers to Capp’s Corner!!!
Thanks Frank. Yeah, SF is so beautiful sometimes it hurts. And then there’s the ankle grabbing.
Give me a holler next time you’re out this way!
Great idea. Gotta ask … have you eaten at Capp’s Corner?
Oh, sorry, Frank. Forgot to answer that. I don’t think so! It looks like it’s been there forever. If you come out you can introduce me to Capp.
You’re lucky I wasn’t around. I have a serious problem stealing dirty mortar water.
On a lighter note, holy sh*t. You had to pull some random guy out of an alleyway? That’s crazy. I think one of the crazier things I had to do for work is sit on some ragtag Santa’s knee for a newspaper story about an old guy who dressed like Santa Claus. I only covered the top stories.
Luckiest day of his life, I guarantee.
And I thought that the magazine “Gardens and Guns” was the strangest I’d heard (or is it Guns and Gardens, I can never remember.) Big Ass tops it. Squashes it, even.
You do have an interesting life, Les.
That’s funny. Yeah, I have to be thankful that mostly it’s not moving bums..
Wow. I can’t think of any job I’ve had where I’ve had to drag a passed out someone off the street away from a door so I could enter it. Although I could maybe think of a couple times in college that were similar — except I was the passed out someone.
I concur with Elyse, you have an interesting life. Have you noticed I’ve never, not a once, wrote about anything that relates to my job? It would make for dull, dull, dull reading on a blog.
Angie–I agree with you about having subjects that don’t seem right to write. I am having fun for the most part, but work’s work, right? It probably won’t be the last time I move a bum, but I really did want to dance with that girl.
What you choose to do with the moments in your life is the most interesting of all, my Friend; that and how you colorize the colorful., funny man. ((( : )
Thanks Lez. It’s pretty much all Lady Gaga up here. We’re coming down to LA!
I couldnt figure out the joke in the picture until I read the post. Now its hilarious 🙂
You mean the bum was invisible? Amazing. Glad you thought it was funny Itchy. I wasn’t laughing at the time.
Porn mags, ankle grabbing, manual labor
How often do you get to combine those three with no innuendo?
Did the rest of the job go smoothly?
Yeah, went fine. I got paid. I worked shirt and tie in the medical industry for fifteen years. Even with stuff like this, I still like it better than sitting in an office.
Absolutely hilarious!
(I lived in San Fran for years on Sacramento street right off Divis. )
They like big butts and they cannot lie. As long as the check clears, it’s all good. Whenever you’re feeling bad just think of me driving a school bus.
There’s gotta be some glamorous aspect to driving the bus. All those Beibers.