A Midwinter's Tale

Picture it, Russian Hill, 2005...

On a cold December evening, two young men wander hand-in-hand through Pacific Heights. On their way to a view of the bay on Green Street, they find a Festivus pole.

Seinfeld fans both, they air their grievances, and deepen their desire. They walk down the Green Street stairs, headed to no certain destination. As the cold San Francisco drizzle worsens, they notice shelter from the worsening rain under the shrubs and trees on the hill. They start back up the stairs, planning their own Festivus feats of strength, and making preparations along the way. They litter their passion along the steps before slipping to dreamland in each others arms. Roused by the morning construction, they escape together before the parade of commuters ascend the stairs toward another day on the treadmill.

THE END

For those of you wondering "Joel, what the hell brought that on?"...here's the story behind the story. I walked those stairs yesterday on my way to day 5 of 10 straight (nay, sequential) days at the hospital. When I saw the condom wrapper, I bemoaned the number of people out there having more fun than me. I get a kick out of making stories up around random things I see, and once I walked by an honest to God Festivus Pole (if such a thing there be), a story was born.

For those of you who think my story telling sucks...tough. Keep in mind that I damn near failed the one Creative Writing course I took. My TA said my writing was too precise, and that I should try to use more diction with my characters. Then she told me my use of diction was too consistent. I gave up.

For those of you wondering why it wasn't raunchier, I have one word...Mom. Mine hasn't found my blog yet, but based on the experiences of my friends, it's probably just a matter of time. I think we're all clear about the feats of strength, and perhaps length, without further definition.

For those of you wondering about the rest of my day...thanks, that's sweet. Unfortunately, the cosmos continued to spotlight the kind of fun that I don't have time for right now. I celebrated the half way point of my 10 days by accompanying a friend to the Castro for a few drinks. I ran into my Thanksgiving hottie boy again, who gave me a kiss and seemed, perhaps, still interested. But NOOO, I had to work early today. So I left, only to see the following on my way out of the Castro.
I thought of quitting my steady job to moonlight on an "I need money" basis. Having reread my story, though, I realize I'd better keep my day job. I'll continue to get what fun I can out of blogging my way through a few glasses of wine (again, This is NOT medical advice) until Monday night. Or Sunday, if my I can get my darling colleague to take the pager again. Tuesday, I'm baking my Christmas cookies. Domestic yes, but there is a certain someone that I've heard is recently single, and he's known to be approachable through his stomach. Wish me luck.