Except for the fact I was to miss the entire weekend's worth of stellar tennis due to my refusal to own a television (which I would only use to watch professional tennis anyway), Sunday at least started out strong. I wandered off to Vesuvio to see my bartender friend Tony and to have delicious morning coffees with my best friend in the City of San Francisco, 'Dabs. Sometimes two people are friends for so long that the art of conversation between the two of them can do nothing but get more beautiful. 'Dabs is that sort of friend for me. His and his brother's joint wedding reception is in Sonora, CA this coming October, and I should really get on getting a room out there for that night.
Then I was off to the Royal Grounds on Polk to meet Jimmy for some coffee... Of course, Jimmy never showed and didn't even call to cancel. I suppose that is probably due to my insistence that we stay completely Platonic friends. He was quite honest about his intentions towards me, and those intentions were not Platonic.
Sometime in the late afternoon I showed up at the Condor back in North Beach. Before the naked ladies come out and dance they have a live band called Los Diablos De Amor [sic] their on Sunday afternoons. I really did get some good dancing in while I was there, and they even asked me to sing one song with them. Such sweethearts. I asked for "Ain't no Sunshine."
From there, I climbed up the hill to visit Mr. 'Hopper. He was in a bad mood when I got there, and I could not deal with how he was treating me. I was sure that keeping in my life was ruining him. I broke into tears, and I set him free. We are no longer together. It was my choice. I did it for him. And, yes, I broke my own heart doing it. That was my rollercoaster of a Sunday.
Monday I finally learned about the weekend's worth of tennis--sans audio, sans commentary, sans anything but the visual-- while sitting at MELT! chatting with Lynn Ruth, Gaynor, Johnny, and various British ladies. Does anyone else think Del Potro looks a bit like Colin Farrell? And that Federer, he was as artful and graceful as always. Congrats to Clijsters, and Ms. S. Williams, wow, lady... I thought I had a red attitude problem. If you're going to get angry, that is the way to make it a good show.
I meant to stop at the National Maritime Library yesterday, too, in order to re-volunteer with them; unfortunately, I failed to get myself out of MELT! until well after they were already closed. I did manage to get myself out to see the Jugtown Pirates last night, though. They play every Monday night at Mojito, and I try to see them every week. And, yes, I did get some good dancing in there, too. Yey!
I woke up late today, Tuesday, and I went straight to MELT! which was not open, yet... so, I stopped in at my dry cleaner's place, the Doo Wash, to hit up Stanley for some chatty chat chat until Gaynor could let me in to MELT!. And here I have been trying to take care of some details, heal my broken heart, and, of course, eat some tasty food ever since. Hmmm... I should really call ahead to the Maritime Library and tell them I am finally stopping in today, shouldn't I?
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