there was the time I went watch a movie and was amongst only a handful of people in the theatre. I sat with my popcorn and Big Gulp Pepsi in the middle of a row, three quarters the way back from the screen and a girl, attractive, hard body, brunette, sat down in the row in front, to my right. The lights had yet to go down and she turned and began to make conversation. She had soon walked down her row, along mine and we sat discussing movies and our other “interests".
Pretty soon she was telling me of her interest in the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and I was feigning my interest as I can’t stand musicals. Pretty soon, she was telling me about her meeting a group of friends at a small theatre in Belmont, where they re-enacted the film and sang the songs (!!), and I was all “wow, how cool,” and “do you dress up” and “how soon until the next one?” Pretty soon, she was showing me pictures from her pocketbook (purse) and pretty soon after that, she was blowing me and in-between mouthfuls, saying how turned on sex in the movie theatre made her (the lights HAD gone down by this time). Pretty soon after that I was making a hasty retreat from the cinema, as I did not want a Rocky Horror oddball following me around, making demands of my time, I mean, seriously!
Mark, Jamid, and I were good friends and hung out most weekends, the Union Street/Pacific Heights district in San Francisco was a popular location. Cafes and restaurants stood alongside bars and clubs, Balboa’s was a cool place, plenty of singles and good music. We’d walk along the streets and intersections, Union, Fillmore, Lombard, and Broadway, while Limousines, hired by fathers for teenage daughters to impress whoever they wanted to impress cruised past. The girls would scream, laughing hysterically, poking out of the sunroofs, the cars looked like they were vomiting women out of their roofs.
|Harry's Bar - San Francisco|