"I'm going to squish you like bug!" Not the most warmest of welcomes I've received in my life. But what was I expecting from a homeless lady with a twitch in her eye? Well, what can you do? I believe when you're in love you take the good with the bad, because no relationship is perfect. I remember when I first fell in love with the City by the Bay. I was about seven years old when my family was in the city for a conference. I remember staring up at the tops of buildings in awe, looking into store windows, completely unaware of the homeless people who seemed to to reaching for me, my mother frantically swatting them away like flies, and piercing into their strung-out souls with a look of death. The moment I knew I wanted to live in the city was when we walked in Nordstrom in San Fransisco. With it's four-story gold circular staircases, I watched the way people walked, and how they lived made we want to be apart of their world. As I got older, the love for the city was changed into a more mature understanding, and a slight humorous appreciation for the locals.
While I was giving a guided tour to a few of my suburban friends, with a pep in my step, I saw a haggard, old homeless woman walking toward my group of friends. Telling them to look down, she continued to walk faster toward us. With a quick slip of her dirty flip-flop, and a smack to my face, "I'm going to squish you like a bug!" she said. The residue from her flip-flop left a large dirt print, and a look of shame on my face. I was completely unaware as to why my city and I had had our first fight. I was quick to forgive this time, but now more aware than ever the shifty turn a city has to offer. After a period of time you can become desensitized to these freak acts of aggression.
After a long day of shopping with my sister in the blistering summer heat of San Fransisco (a high of 65 degrees), the only thing that could possibly make the day more perfect was a Passion Tea Lemonade from Starbucks, and of course, a show. This was a true test of the city life. As we were sipping our Venti drinks, a skinny, pale man started to walk around in circles. Strange, but not completely abnormal. He continued on until apparently got too hot. So he took off his shirt, then his shoes, socks, pants, you get the idea. We decided either he was high, or was listing to the song "I'm Too Sexy for my Shirt" and took it to heart. Either way, we just sat there until our drinks were gone, and so were his clothes. Unphased by what happened, we were just ready for more shopping.
Oh San Fransisco, how I miss you. But we will meet again soon, in a week's time. That's right. The House of Brockman is jet setting to the sunny state of California, where dreams do come true; well at least before the recession in 2006. We will only have $20.00 in our pockets, but getting ready to pop some tags in the city. Can't wait.