via Questions for the Person Who Wore a Fur Coat to the Taqueria
Jason Ditzian Words & Music
The Bold Italic The Bold Italic is an online magazine that celebrates the character and free-wheeling spirit of San Francisco and the Bay Area.
And not a ratty thrift-store sort of coat, but the real deal. Waist-length and crisp white. Perfectly clean. Either fox or mink and very expensive looking. She wore it over a T-shirt with a pair of super-skinny, shiny track pants.
It made me nervous to be consuming a burrito in such close proximity to this coat. I’ve been known to have a wide blast radius when I’m really enjoying my food.
It was one of those hot summer SF days of late that seems like it’s never going to end — and then at 5:30 p.m., cue the wind. It’s easy to get caught off guard in skimpy summer garb. So perhaps there was a practical aspect to the coat — just as she was running out the door to meet friends for dinner, realizing that the weather had turned, with no time to plan a whole new outfit, she grabbed a mink from the closet. We’ve all been there.
There I was at Little Chihuahua in the Lower Haight with a friend, eating my totally delicious, overpriced, wild-mushroom burrito with organic corn chips. (Scoff at my gentrified burrito if you like, but remember—if you happen to be in that neighborhood, it’s by far the cheapest option for a sit-down dinner.)
Not only that, but the coat was placed on the back of a chair a few feet away from the salsa bar.
Miss Fancycoat sat at the table next to me. So close, I could have reached out and stroked those luxurious hairs with my salsa-stained fingers.
It made me nervous to be consuming a burrito in such close proximity to this coat. That’s putting a lot of faith in my ability to eat without spreading the love. I’ve been known to have a wide blast radius when I’m really enjoying my food.