Author Archives: didofoot
Office
I went to the zoo this morning in search of someplace quiet to work but I guess I picked the wrong day because it was swarming with kids. At the zoo! That’s the last time I buy a chocolate bar from one of those “keep kids off the streets” programs. If they’re on the streets, … Continue reading
Gender-izations
Many waitresses can be quickly won over by a compliment. “I love your earrings” will garner you extra mayo. “Great nail polish” gets your water glass consistently refilled. The same does not appear to hold true for male servers. I pointed out to today’s barrista that his Bret-esque jumper was truly kickass, but I still … Continue reading
A belated mother’s day post
There is a teenager in the dressing room next to mine; her mother sits on the straight-backed chair in the mirrored alcove just outside. Fabric rustles; the door clicks; the girl walks out. “Do you like it?” her mother asks. “Yeah,” the girl says, a slight hitch in her voice indicating she’s twisted around to … Continue reading
List of Requirements
Stuff you must do when staying at your childhood home: 1. Read all your old yearbooks. Illustrative Example “Kristen. You are the only one of your friends that I like, and one of only 3 that I would nail.” 2. Play with your old toys. Sunbathe. Concurrently. Illustrative Example 3. Finish your story already (plus … Continue reading
A week spent house-sitting for my ‘rents: an observation
Stuff we acquire as we get older: A cleaning lady Coffee table books A flourishing 401k Opinions about school board candidates Exercise equipment Cheese knives Though I may be conflating maturity with suburban living.
Fly Ride
On the F, I sat near a father and his young son. “How about that car?” the little boy said, pointing out the window. “Yeah,” his father agreed. “That car is all about going zip and zoom.” The little boy frowned, then asked, “But is it reliable?”
Silence and noise
My favorite writing cafe is being overrun by Brits lately. I don’t know where they’re coming from; it’s like an ant invasion. You can see the flood but can’t figure out how to stem it. Dear Brits: you are all very well in your place (i.e. Britain) but I find your sexy-swoony accents distracting when … Continue reading
Jaws
I haven’t written here for a week because I’ve been working on my real writing. (I think of this blog as fake writing, which is weird since so far it’s the only kind of writing I show to people. Except dog journalism, which I also kind of consider fake.) But for the last 36 hours … Continue reading
Free lunch
The intersection at Market, Noe and 16th smells like fifth-grade lunch: chocolate milk, wet cardboard and a faint whiff of peanut butter. Maddeningly, the wind is swirling like a cyclone today, making it impossible to track this lunch-shadow to its source.
The Tuesday alarm
Every Tuesday at noon a siren wails across a series of speakers placed on street corners throughout San Francisco. And every Tuesday at noon, for as many months as this has been going on, I jump out of my fucking skin. “This is a test,” the robotic announcement says, following the siren. “This is a … Continue reading