It’s bright out, and from my office window I’m tricked into thinking the walk to coffee will not require a jacket. Familiar with San Francisco for almost a decade, living here full time for three years and I still fall for this trick, a nerd offered a handshake only to have the cool kid snatch their hand away: obvious and humiliating.
I need to escape work for a second, need to clear my head. The tech kids on meet and greets, amply padded in their puffer vests, sit on the shady side of Cafe Reveille, while I’m soaking up the sun at the bar in the window, almost sweating. I draw a house from my walk to kalari in Berkeley, a simple cracker box with stunning topiary. Outside the window, willowy North Beach girls fresh from yoga stalk shivering in the shade of Mr. Bings, off to who knows where.