I went looking for a jacket and although I did find a number of them at this one store up in the haight none of them suited me as well as the one I had found one block from my house but I had left it there in search of something a little more hip although what could be more hip than a carhartt but on the other hand I'm not sure they are hip at all or if this is a leftover 90s instinct of mine but you know you live a certain amount and all the hipness begins to run together such that you find yourself on your own little island of hip for instance I noticed as I sat in the taqueria this evening which path I took to get there is the subject of this post but as I sat I realized that no one wears boots anymore even as I can find no footwear quite as expressive of what I want to express as boots but why should I assume that my taste in shoes is anything like hip. so I don't know about the jacket but I'll probably get the carhartt a block away tomorrow unless someone has bought all three they had in my size and that is of course the worry. they are all blanket lined my favorite.
you see in my shift from black to browns and blues I took care of the brown needs in outerwear but not the blue so I need something in blue or gray.
I've told the story already it seems. well after I had found nothing in the haight not even at the one store I just knew had something I was looking for so apparently my hunch was wrong but I antsy wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible so decided to take whichever bus came first and decide from there how best to get home. you see three of them go to BART downtown which then deposits me four blocks from home whereas the fourth brings me within two blocks of my house but runs infrequently compared to the other three.
well sir one of the other three shows up first so I board thinking I'll go all the way downtown to get on BART when it occurs to me that this bus brushes my neighborhood at a distance of about one mile from my house which is not such a bad walk even though at this point I am thoroughly freezing my ass off and incidentally everyone in san francisco expects it to be hot right now and I have crossed paths with innumerable citizens shivering in short sleeves but so I get off the bus near the zen center and wander down to the octavia boulevard that is the new entrance to the interstate that ends here by the sea and I see all the cars and brand new dark black asphalt and think such great intentions I wonder if the boulevard will end up a boulevard or a no man's land of speeding cars and I realize that no one can say and no one can determine but it will either happen or it won't and there isn't a damned thing any of us can do about it except perhaps not litter should we have the chance at octavia and market.
about one third of a mile on my way towards my house my somewhat haphazardly chosen route takes me past the door of a bar I've been in before and as I had been thinking about the possibility of a beer all afternoon I decide to step in and have one which I do and watch baseball for half an inning and then I leave and continue on wondering if the carhartt store will still be open when I get there or if I should stay on this street and go find the cd I've been looking for as the cd store gets its new inventory on thursdays and thus thursday night finds everyone in the know in the store looking for what they could not find on monday.
but at the same time I am feeling a little hungry so I tell myself if the taqueria is not crowded I will stop in there for a quesadilla and another beer and when I get there it is for some reason not at all crowded so this I do and while downing the quesadilla and the beer I begin to feel a little ill and thus slow my intake and start looking around at the hip people that go in there and this is when I discover that nearly everyone in america even the abject misfits wear some variation of sneaker or shapeless oxfords and/or mary janes. the shoe taste in this country is simply appalling but as I looked around at everyone waiting for the beer to settle I tried to picture each one of them in middle america and one by one I saw people getting beaten or killed and it became clear to me that mary janes or not this was pretty much both the end of the line and the beginning of something unimaginable for every one of us.
by the time I got to the carhartt store it was closed but happily upon arriving in my room I found a half full bottle of fizzy water that in my travels I had completely forgotten about. I am drinking it now and wondering if I would already be in bed had the 33 come first.