sǝuoſ ǝuıɥsunS

She said she lived at 1138 Masonic. I could see the numbers from the street, so I pulled my vespa up onto the sidewalk and parked. I watched the sun setting across the haight, and for a moment I thought maybe the upper haight might not be so bad. I never come up here. It’s like a native New Yorker going to the top of the empire state building, or a Seattlite riding to the top of the space needle. It’s something you do once or twice in your life, but there’s not much point in making a habit of it.

I rang the bell, tucking my helmet into my pack and checking my phone. There was a message, and I hastily replied. Eventually the door opened and while I expected a room mate might answer because Angelica was in an accident and had major surgery to repair her ankle, I certainly didn’t expect the curious little man who answered the door.

He was about five feet tall with a slightly over sized head and a very thin body. He peered at me curiously through glasses and watery grey eyes. I smiled and asked “Is Angelica here?”

His happy little wet eyes flashed joy and recognition and he seemed to flap his wings as if he were a seagull in his last life and cried, “Yes! Yes! Yes! Dooo come in. Yes.” And then cleared his throat and made about a dozen little foot steps to make way for me. I walked past him into the flat and asked where Angelica was.

“Oh any place is fine. Yes. Come into the living room. Wherever you like is very nice.”

I walked to the end of the hallway and stood in an immaculately clean, but typical San Franciscan kitchen. Something wasn’t right. I turned and looked at my companion and asked “Which room is Angelica’s? Is she awake?”

“Oh yes!” He smiled. “Please… Sit down.”

I sat down on the edge of the couch and waited. My host puttered around the kitchen flipping light switches and saying things over and over like “None of the devices will work” and “I can not open the lights for you I’m sorry.”

After about ten or fifteen minutes of watching this interesting display of humanity and befuddlement I rose from the edge of the couch, my host turned as if to embrace me and said “Will we have dinner soon?”

I smiled and brought out my telephone. He peered at it as if maybe there was going to be a movie for us to watch. I grinned at him and dialed Angelica’s mobile, already walking back down the hall toward the door.

“Hi Sweetie” Said Angelica.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“I’m right at the corner of Masonic and Haight. Here I’ll turn the light on for you.”

I started to explain where I was, but then it hit me. Where am I? I was in the doorway now, and I turned to look again at my host. He was standing sternly in the entry furrowing his brow, the smile gone from his eyes. I tried to explain that there had been some mistake, but his hands were on his hips and he scowled at me. I tried smiling, but that wasn’t having any impact on my host.

“Certainly not a very long visit!” He said, dejected, clearly disappointed.

“I’m sorry.” I said, and I was indeed, truly, very sorry. “Something’s come up and I have to go now. Goodbye.”

“Next time come when you have more time for a visit.” He said softly. And then stood in the doorway waving until I had ridden my scooter up the block.