Wed, 8 Apr 2009 21:19:02 -0700
Last Friday morning, I walked home from T's apartment through the Mission, and noticed on the corner of 18th & Guerrero a storefront I must have passed by hundreds of times, but never before seen. A line snaked 'round the tables inside, past glass cases of hot pastry, sleepy morning people hunched over their bread puddings, coffees, newspapers. I stuck my head in, curious, as it hit me that this must be the fabled Tartine. I've had my reasons for not going in here before (namely, butter). But, presented suddenly with the option, I took it. A few minutes later, I was walking past bright Dolores Park on 18th Street, licking the hot, sticky sugar of the morning bun from my fingers, and marveling at what I'd been missing, right under my nose.
The analogy is almost too easy. He's been right here for months, now. What triggers sight?
Imminent distance, perhaps. I drove him to SFO yesterday morning, where he, looking for all the world like the mid-30's San Franciscan Brit adventurer that he is, drew a deep breath and embarked for nigh on six weeks of not being here (the only part of "where" I care about).
They all seem to go. But this one has a return ticket ...