Why I Love San Francisco
It was a perfect morning. The sky was blue, the air crisp and cool. I strolled down Market Street, watching the few people awake and out early on a Saturday morning.
I felt him staring at me and glanced at him as he approached me. With the click, click, click, of an Indian speaking English, he said, “You have a very lucky face. Two gentlemen will love you.”
I smiled, thanked him, and continued my stroll, wondering, “Who are these two gentlemen? Will they be loving me at the same time? Will I know they are loving me?”
