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Excerpt from mail sent in 1997
I was walking across Golden Gate Park today when a bicyclist asked me for directions. I think four people have asked me for directions since I moved here nine days ago. This one asked me if I knew how to get to Kezar Stadium. This was tricky. I thought for a bit, gave directions as best I could, and pointed out that if my directions were faulty, that he should just head for the appropriate corner of the park. He thanked me.
I thought that perhaps I should mention that I knew that the Polo Field had a bike track, but wasn't sure about Kezar. And we were much closer to the Polo Field. But I decided against it. Maybe someone at the Polo Field had recommended that this guy go to Kezar, I didn't know. Maybe Kezar had a bike track.
The cyclist started getting his toes back in his clips, and asked, "Hey, do you know where the cruise-y part of the park is? I know there's got to be one." Oh, so maybe this guy was looking for a scenic touring area, not a high-velocity bike track. I looked around. If he didn't think of the road we were on as being pretty, I didn't know what to tell him. "I dunno," I said. I started walking. "Oh, well," he said. He rode alongside me. He looked at me. I looked back. His eyes narrowed; his eyes flicked from side to side. I knew what was coming next.
He was going to try to sell me marijuana. Thoughts raced through my head. Jeez, why does everyone think I'm a stoner? Why do I have to deal with a salesman today? It's too nice a day to have commerce thrust upon me.
He spoke. "How about you? You look as if you could use a blow job."
I was half a syllable through a curt, "No thanks" before I realized that this guy wasn't trying to sell me any drugs. He wasn't trying to sell me anything. "Nnn-- nn?" I think I blinked a few times. I suddenly figured out what this guy meant by, "cruise-y part of the park." I realized I that here was no call for curtness. Awkwardness, perhaps.
"Maybe not today, but thank you," I said."Maybe not today, eh?" he asked. I shook my head and smiled. I think he said something as he rode off.
I don't know why people think I look like a stoner. I don't know why people think I look like I need a blow job. Appearances can be deceiving, I guess.