I am walking down Castro Street, lots of sun in my eyes, and I see a guy standing on some stairs, about thirty feet ahead of me on the left. Mid fifties, tall and lean, shaved head, glasses, thick grey-black moustache, wifebeater T on an athletic build. Reminds me of a former lover. Could it be him? I keep walking, and looking.
The guy sees me looking, and looks back.
When I get within clearer non-glare distance, I realize that it's not him. Since I have been staring, I politely say, "Gee, I thought I knew you. You look just like my ex."
He smiles and says, "Ah. Oh, well. I thought you were cruising me. I was hoping that look was lust, but I guess it was really suspicion!"
We laugh and move on.
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3 comments:
keep quoting these dead white guys for a reason. We seem to be repeating some particularly nasty history, right now.
Huh, Anonymous? What dead white guys?
Who's "we"?
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