April 18 – April 23
The beauties of drinking for (nearly) a week:
DAY 1: The Warriors win game 2 of the playoffs
DAY 2: The warmth of rustic throw blankets they give out at Uno Dos
DAY 3: Chinese fried popcorn chicken next door to Buddha Lounge
DAY 4: Your favorite song by the 1975 ends their concert in the rain at The Greek Theater (“Sex”)
DAY 6: Withstanding 4 glasses of Mimoasas and standing on the Ferry Boat across the Bay from Tiburon
It’s now another Sunday, a blooming spring early afternoon thinking fondly back to these old habits of mine, refusing to die. Despite them being in the shape of cocktails I’ve kept tight hold on the wonderful memories of these past few nights. But Day 5, you might wonder?
There was surely something beautiful, witnessed when sober. Thankfully so or I would not have crossed paths with this uniquely set scene of a man who took shelter in the entrance of a Subway sandwich shop. I didn’t know him. I’ll never see him again. But for seeing him there, cramped with his head bowed and perhaps pleased at what home he’d made that evening. For with the large, yellow sign tethered to the shop’s front awning, it must have felt like this was an arrangement from the Heavens themselves, the perfect GRAND OPENING and not for sandwiches.
At last, I’d like to think that the sign was for that man. A beautiful coincidence or a modest little blessing.