Tuesday’s commute home was almost ninety minutes, which is long for me, but apparently not bad for rush hour. The shuttle took the “scenic route”, going out by Lake Merced on the way to Glen Park BART, which gave me a good long look at the Sunset monotony. Twas boring even at thirty miles per hour; at three it might kill me.
Orphan blocks pull me in like a moth to a flame, and Castro has one near GPB, so I hoofed right off the shuttle to find it. Why I seek these blocks I don’t know, because they’ve never been very exciting, and this was no exception. Hopes dashed and glum, I decided to phone Jelly for cheering up. Turns out she was on Chenery with Seth, and had cheese! She could have said nothing better, or at least nothing I’d repeat in polite company.
The three met up at Bemis and Miguel, and we opted to descend and follow Chenery to Seth’s new place, eating crackers with Baba Ghanoush all the while. Seth told the story of an eccentric and rich fellow that lives in a huge mansion without street access behind his building. The grounds are carefully tended gardens, the interior is exquisitely decorated, and the owner apparently throws sexy parties and loans the place out to movie makers.
As we parted ways with Seth, Ellie and I walked north along Dolores, and I made a mental note to find out more about the mansion owner.