Thanksgiving was spent here at home, with John cooking all of the dinner this year. With all the massage work lately, I just didn’t feel like cooking at all. John had a couple of guests over: Steven J. and his mother, who was visiting Steven from Newport News, Virginia. The mom, whose name I am ashamed to admit I can’t remember, was a retired music teacher, and was truly delightful.
I cooked the carcass down and made around 1.5 gallons of turkey stock for John. David returned later in the evening from his dinner engagement in Oakland.
Friday, though, was weird. John and David got into this huge argument over nothing worth arguing over, and I had to get out of the house. As it happens, George was in town and asked me if I wanted to have dinner with him, so we went and had supper at Chow, where we had the most tasteless pair of meals we’d ever had there. At the conclusion of the meal, we both decided that we didn’t need to eat there again for a few months. The lasagna was just dull and lifeless, and his pasta was boring, too.
After dinner, we walked to the video store in the Castro for George to rent a couple of movies. Wandering back to his car on Dolores at 14th, we enjoyed talking and holding hands in the brisk evening air. I wanted to go back down to Palo Alto with him, but he wanted to get a head-start on packing his apartment for his impending move from Palo Alto to Santa Clara.
So, he dropped me off at home, and I braced myself for the chilly atmosphere of UGH.
Saturday I woke up and had a cup of coffee, then showered and hopped on the bus downtown to have Indian food with this buddy from Bear411. We had been texting each other that morning, and had decided to go to Little Delhi at Mason and Eddy. I got there around 10 minutes early and told him I was going to go inside and sit down. He had said that he was in a traffic snarl and would be there as soon as he could. When I asked him where the snarl was, he said that he was trying to get into the Caldecott Tunnell(!), then that he was approaching the bridge, finally getting off the bridge and finding parking. In the meanwhile, I ordered lunch, and when he showed up, an hour late, I had largely finished eating lunch, although I had saved him some.
Yes, I waited an hour for him to show up. The only reason I did so was because he was a grown-up and gave me clear communication and updates while I waited.
After lunch, we wandered around Union Square, and I got to tell him about the Dewey Memorial, and trotted out my origins of the phrase “Sugar Daddy” story (which I will be using on my upcoming Barbary Coast Stairway Walk as part of IBR in February). I think I’m getting better at telling stories, regardless.
From Union Square, we headed to my office building three blocks away so I could use the loo, and we sat in my office for a few minutes talking some more, then headed back downstairs. Seeing that it was 17:10, I bade him farewell, and hopped on the 21-Hayes homeward.
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