saturday serenade

as i sit and watch my outside neighborhood from the back porch of the duplex, i begin to realize how exposed the kitchens and backrooms are around here. so is mine, there are no less than three un-curtained rooms. the breeze blows during the day, and begins to harden and get cold at night. people sitting around on decks and back porches casually glance over as i pour this vodka tonic.

my roommate chris, 28, clean shave, and with a new found proclivity for the fairer sex leaves his dishes sitting dirty. plays poker on his computer and smokes a joint with me in exchange for cleaning the floors. he doesn't sigh, doesn't worry. his biggest letdown is not being up to a jog in this muggy weather. my other roommate sarah, 28, a michigan transplant seemed little cookie cutter at first, but then over a beer and some time to waste, she began to break down for me her feelings on the local singles scene. the bay area is full of singles that will end up being single, or constantly about to be single, or about to be in some relationship. a sea of fools, i intone. yup, a sea of fools. well done sarah, cheers.

but it's no pleasure cruise, the dishes washed, the floors clean and the fridge stocked. no duck pate, no pinot noir, no big screen tele. a stack of criterion collection dvds from the library, and stacks of cds sit around to be put away, or not. a front and back porch outfitted with ashtrays and a view. curious cats mingle and scurry about. the helicopter roars towards its landing pad five blocks away. time for another drink, and to watch on some old paul newman flick...