So, my partner and I are waiting in a long line in the rain with all of scummy humanity to get ice cream. There's every race, age, gender or combo therein, whatever. We all just want ice cream NOW. Four young dudes in thug-wear and attitude are ahead of us. No biggie-smalls, I say to myself, until one of them approaches me for a cig. Everyone is clad in hoodies, so we can't see them, but this one dude is hella polite and has amazing, pretty eyes that I only notice when he looks at me directly in the eye to say thanks. The back of my mind says "Good. Did not get stabbed". Thinking "Midnite Basketball" for these suckahs. They are two tall, skinny white guys and two Chicanos. They're talking shit. All wearing basketball shirts and hoodies. Just local trash, as are eldergay me and my overly-tatooed partner in The Mission (SF). After they score, the four of em walk down the street while licking their cones, now as two couples holding hands, licking each others' ice cream cones, stealing quick kisses, slowly blocking traffic in the crosswalk, and acting like they own the whole block just like most kids do here. Th bf of the kid I gave a cig to looked like one of our neighbor's sons. I took care of their dog when he was born. His dad and I shared the same pot dealer for years. He has exactly zero fabulousness, but I think it's him. I'll find out soon enough. My preconcieved notions about people get worse as I get older. I've seen similar scenarios several times, sometimes with plump, white-collar frat-boy type in the Financial District. No one care here, and that's why I'll never leave my hometown.
Is this 1970?
Holding ciggie with chubby fings, licking on yum yum cone - yay!
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