Homeless Man Running Away From Home
Anticipation of Running Away
Am I so excited about my trip to the Rocky Mountains of Colorado that I cannot sleep?
Lord knows I tried and tried before catching the Cali Zephyr. God knows that I had suffered from a rottenly, bitter 4 a.m. cup of java from the 24- hour Subway located across from the Amtrak office along San Francisco’s Embarcadero. I drank it only because I awoke in an odd, slumping posture and was cold, wet, and shivering.
I must have been sitting at the abandoned bus stop since 2:45 and dozed off for about 65 minutes.
I think the rattling sound of my teeth woke me up.
Prior to that, I found a dry, shielded spot adjacent to the vehicle portico of the Americano Hotel. There the unfriendly doorman woke me up. I thought that was the place for me to hide high and dry until the Amtrak ticket office opens at 6.
Before that I had found a lovely spot near the ticket office along San Francisco Pier 2 with a beautiful view of the Bay Bridge yet all lit up from its grand reopening last year.
My original plans for running away from home have run amuck. I had planned to spend my first late night and early morning hours in the Metrion Movieplex. When I arrived and tried to walk into theatre about 8:30, there were thousands of geeks walking out. Seems the AMC interrupted their regular business to let the Microsoft folks hold their conference programs inside. I was disappointed that I did not see three different movies last night.
Fortunately, I did see “Cesar Chavez” at the Daly City Century Theatre before getting on a BART train heading downtown. Even though it was not authentic, I thought everything but the last 10 minutes of the movie was excellent. Although the whole story took place in Delano and Los Angeles, California, the movie was really filmed in Mexico City and Sonora, Mexico.
All is well now as I sat again in the remarkable atrium of the Hyatt Embarcadero where I witnessed the Oakland A’s defeating Seattle in 12 innings last night while dining on banana bread pudding and a raspberry mint lemonade cocktail before trying to “hit the sack.”
By 7:30 a.m., it seems it is raining harder at the Emeryville train depot than it was in San Francisco at 1:00 a.m. when rain fell on my forehead and I started to get wet lying down taking a nap in front of the San Francisco Amtrak ticket office.
It is difficult to tell how sleep deprived I am. Last knight I kept getting woken up by private security patrolmen, hotel doormen, and the sound of rain falling on my head. Really the last seven days has only given me two nights of restful sleep.
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(for musement only)