[ Transdevotional Reader: these are the last two of “Zeke’s 10 New Rules,” as declared through the humble medium of the postcard. Sent, as usual, via the USPS to Larkin and six bars in the Castro that he frequents. Or did frequent, seeing as this is also a game to try to get him 86’d from one or more of these boozy venues…in retaliation for his successful maneuver to get me kicked out of those very same locales. Which he succeeded in doing since his initial salvo back in January of 2013. Use your browser “zoom” command to more easily view the printouts taped to these gay-history-in-the-making cards. ]
Mailed on 28 August:
Mailed on 31 August:
SHE’S AN ANGEL!
I desperately needed a new backpack by early August, as my previous one was stolen by a handsome minx whose identity shall not be revealed herein. And my red satchel that served as a backup, was almost frayed to the point of inutility. Finances were scant, and my homeless pals never got around to finding me a decent pack for which I offered $10. So I hoofed it on down to Ross Dress For Less in order to see what they had in the way of such a need. Cost me a few pennies under $35, but it was a great deal.
So in their lobby, I transferred the contents of my satchel (including most importantly my HP Elite Book and its AC adaptor) into the new backpack, and marched off with a purchase well satisfied. I then boarded the underground Metro to enjoy my daily breakfast at The Posh Bagel located downtown. A couple hours later I boarded the L Taraval to return to my neighborhood, The Castro.
Just before I arose to disembark, my new pack’s yellow strap caught itself under the plastic seat, yanking me back down. A Latino matron was parked right beside me, so I could not crouch down to resolve this problem without looking up her chunky thighs. In order to avoid such embarrassment, I had to figure out how to free the strap without thrusting my nose between her knees.
Instead of politely moving aside (and there were many seats to do so), she just remained on spot, chuckling at my dilemma.
“That’s okay,” I declared while jiggling the strap in hopes of freeing it from a more awkward position (and sighed in resignation), “I’ll just have to get off at a later stop. No sweat.”
I continued to fuss with the unyielding backpack, accepting my fate of being coerced to travel well beyond The Castro and through the tunnel that would take me to Taraval Street and perhaps beyond.
But while struggling to achieve My Gordian-Knotted Goal, I wondered why the train did not move on, but remained stationary well beyond its usual wont. I paid that observation no further mind, and focused with Zen-like attention upon the liberation of My Beloved New Purchase that I had only acquired earlier that day.
In a sudden release, the strap was freed and I stood erect once more, and rushed to the door…expecting to exit at Taraval Station. Instead, I discovered this radiant and young Af-American lady holding back the sliding door in order to allow my exit at the correct stop. She had long, smokey-golden hair, a lovely blouse and rippling skirt both colored reddish-lavender…and a most kind demeanor spread across her enlightened visage. Clearly, she was an intelligent and brave-hearted soul.
As I passed through the train’s doorway and stepped onto the platform, I turned to her and said: “Thank you!”
More than that: before the doors shut I called, “You’re an angel! You’re an absolute angel!”
Were her skin lighter toned, she would’ve blushed like a radish. Her smile back at me was more glorious than an April mist. As the N Judah huffed forward, that Latino matron smiled at me in laughter. I looked right back, shrugged my shoulders and guffawed in full realization of God’s Little Joke.
I love my new backpack, for the sweet story that formed around it the very first day I flung it over my scapulae.
Just got this lovely card from my illustrator, Sid Rohan. The “Cosmic Cookies” on the back of this card refer to (of course) my “Misfortune Cookies” tale that I printed out and sent her (she doesn’t do Internet). I’m sure it happened without any conscious intent on her part…which makes it so much more magical.