Helping out a lady in distress.

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San Francisco, Market Street,
25-11-2002.

I've seen her face in my dreams these last few days, known her nationality - Ethyopian - , even her personality was no secret to me.
In the real world I've seen her dressed in her red and yellow striped pyjamas walking between her room and the toilet on the second floor of my hostel, usually carrying toilet utensils like a tooth brush or a roll of toilet paper, often giving me long and seductive looks from under carefully manicured eye lashes.

As a male with years of contact with the female part of the human population, these provocative and promising looks told me all that there was to know about this excentric but highly attractive lady.

No doubt about it she has a healthy appetite for men needing their constant attention as an afirmative for her good looks, no doubt she is used to men throwing themselves at her black african feet willing to fulfil her every wimp for a mere word from her full blood red lips.


So no big surprise this morning when I walked down the steps and saw her in front of the reception, an enormous huge pile of luggage at her side while she asked the indian receptionist to phone her a taxi.

- Excuse me sir, you think you could help me out with my luggage - I am in a hurry to make it to the airport -

Her big drak brown eyes once again promising....seductive....provocative....but who am I to say no to a lady in "distress".

So I find myself dragging that enormous pile of personal female belongings to the other side of Market street while she holds her lady's purse clasped thightly to her chest complaining about all these homeless not-to-be-trusted drunks that roam the city of San Francisco.

- maybe you should come with me cos I do not trust the cabbie -

Her african face is set thightly and I know for a fact that she is not asking me, she is merely making a statement being 100 percent sure I will follow her to the airport like a silly love struck puppy will follow the high heeled shoes of his beloved mistress.

Haaaaaa, I might have dragged her stuff outside and across busy Market street but I am not a complete fool. Politely I point out that I do not have all day and saying goodbey walked away leaving her behind in bewilderment with the not-to-be "trusted" taxi driver.

I spent the rest of the day at Wisherman s Warf making sketches of the pelicans, the seals and the many tourists walking around.

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Photos

Pelican..
at Fisherman's Warf

Pelican...
at Fisherman's Warf