Weather, Porn

Um, nope, that title is not a typo.

I am very nearly getting off on the weather tonight.

Allow me to explain.

People move to San Francisco for a number of reasons. People live in different areas of the City based on economic and social measures, sure, but there's also the weather. You want warmth and sunshine? Go live in the Mission. You want fog and cooler temperatures? Go live by the ocean...and so I do.

Is it any wonder then that when the temperature even next to the ocean over the past three days exceeded 90 that we heard more sirens coursing through the streets out here, or that we all wandered around grumpy in the Inner Sunset? I think not. One of my coworkers said, "Why didn't you just go to the Park?" Is she insane? Everyone and their brother who lives anywhere near the Park goes to the Park on days like these, for the purpose of finding shade. It looks like a refugee camp down there.

So when I came back from Oakland this afternoon and arrived on the Number 6 mere blocks from my house, I nearly swooned. Thick marine layer (California for "fog") was rolling over Mount Sutro. I climbed the steps to the apartment, threw open my window, and HAPPILY GOT A CHILL. Keep in mind too that I've either been sick or allergic to something now since Sunday...I'm thinking sick, because it didn't abate with the heat, but it could be allergies, since I am not running a fever. Still, all stuffed up and deaf, I let the night air storm in, which it does, like a lover who's conquered the world and returned, "Baby, I'm HOME!"

One more note to this...some people enjoy aspects of the hot weather if only to get a look at things that they don't always get to see when it's cold enough to cover up. A friend wrote this on Twitter:

College campus + heat-wave clothing = difficult to keep one's eyes to one's
self.

The sad thing is, I'm in a uniform for most of the day that makes me look like what I think is a Pep Boy outfit, but contractors and tradesmen still come in all day with a "Nice outfit!" eyes a-roaming, or just eyes a-roaming, so...

Hot weather or no, I'm a pin-up girl. It does get old.

*****

One of the drooling men this past week was telling me about a scene from the movie "Bull Durham" (actually a couple of them) where two different men had the opportunity to disarm a woman's garter belt and one makes it out to be as difficult as nailing Jell-O to a tree while the other one completely executes the task in style. I don't know where specifically he was headed (although I have a pretty good guess), but I had forgotten the scenes, so I pulled them up on You Tube.

Gracious.

Baseball players, Kevin Costner, and garter belts.

Too bad I have no need for such a thing. I steered the guy back to his valves that he needed to order, and as creepy as he is, I guess I have to be grateful for the reminder entertainment.

Sleep well, dear reader.