normalcy

friendly coffee shop girl says to me, "hello good morning dear! did you feel the earthquake this morning?" i'm really into earthquakes, i say "NO! i didn't! what was it?" she looks at me quizzically and i get the feeling she just moved to california, i rephrase my question, "how big was it?" "OH!" she says, "4-something. yeah, my whole room was shaking!" i walk away wondering if she asks every other person if they felt the earthquake. i cross the street and sit and wait for the bus and i can't stop thinking about it. how often does she ask people about the earthquake? does she like me? does she save that question for girls that she likes so she has something to say to them? does she look for a particular face that says to her, "this person will enjoy the convo about the earthquake this morning?" this is what fills my mind, wondering how it all works.

gay couple from kansas walks down castro, holds hands, takes pictures in front of "Castro" street sign. they're 45, they're huge, they're so happy. they can be super gay and no one bothers them about it. they are embraced and appreciated in a place where "different" is the majority. they go to drag shows and squeal and yelp and clap hands and say "Oh, GIRL, this is FUN!" they can't believe this shangri-la. they'd live here but they don't make enough money. this is freedom and it's expensive.

crazy-loud lady in baseball cap, purple jaggedy hair and sweatshirt celebrating sobriety chats on bus with young, hot guy holding cat in cat carrier on his lap. he wears cop glasses and five-day stubble. she says "how old is she?" he says, "he's 13" she says, "mine's 10" he smiles broadly and nods enthusiastically. it's the polite thing to do. this is cat chat on the 33 Stanyan.

this is sf on thursday morning. it's a pretty day. people walk around doing their stuff, whatever it is they do. they go, they sit, they eat, they talk, they walk their dogs. it's what happens everyday. this is ordinary. this is life. how weird.