Saturday sun here at the cafe next door to my place. Lovely spot with neighborly owners, good coffee and tea and wireless internet access. The hood is good.
Out late last night, the Zeitgeist, and had the whole Jungle household crashing in my barely furnished apartment. I felt guilty having a bed and everyone else sharing our one couch and the cushions and the thermarest. I'm up in the big house on the hill, a plush Serta bought off two friendly lesbiens from Oakland. It's all fine in the morning with coffee and biscuits and gravy at Als. Maybe we'll see Bubba Hotep later today; depends on how work goes.
At the bar trying to have converstaion, trying to look at women, hearing myself talk -- my voice repeating cracky high tones -- and wondering what it was all about. Shots of cheap Irish Whisky (Powers) and pints of Steam. Stopping off at the
El Salvadoran joint for way more food than we could eat and a lovely hit of orchata before coming to rest. Frisco is a small town at heart, I think. It's got that feeling; friends and family and familiar faces.