Tuesday, January 12, 2010

The Girl, The Dog, The Crying Shame

When I was in my mid- 20's, I had an off and on boyfriend named Stanley. He and I dated for a while, but I guess it was mostly like people now call "friends with benefits". Neither of us was serious about the other one, but we liked each other just fine. The early 70's in San Francisco were a crazy time. Free love, flower power, the Filmore, the hippies all added to the insanity!

I hadn't seen Stanley for quite a few weeks when I ran into him in a bar, Perry's in San Francisco. Stanley was an OB/GYN and frequently went to the pick-up places in the City after work. Perry's was a spot where one could find "a friend" for the night! Like I said, it was a crazy time.

I had two small children who spent every other weekend with my ex-husband and so I went out every Friday or Saturday night that I was alone. Since I was divorced with two children at the tender age of 24, I needed some social life! And quite frankly I was something of a hussy when I got some time without the kids.

Stanley told me he had bought a condo in Emeryville (about 20 minutes from San Francisco) and that he would love to show it to me. Since I was a free woman for the night, I said sure. When we arrived at Stanley's upscale complex, we pulled into the garage area of one of the high rises. We took the elevator up to one of the top floors and got comfortable having a drink on his leather sofa and looking at the wonderful views of San Francisco out his windows.

Stanley's pride and joy however was his 3 month old dachshund named Daisy. She was a cutie all right. She even slept with us. About 3 AM, the phone rang and Stanley cursed and answered it. One of his patients was in labor and he had to go. While he dressed, he told me that the most important thing was for me to take Daisy out for her morning walk before 7 AM. I assured him that I would, rolled over and went back to sleep.

Stanley called at 7 to make sure I was up and taking care of Daisy. Sure thing, I told him, from my interrupted sleep. I got up and threw on my trench coat, my pumps from the previous night, not bothering to dress at all. I searched all over for a leash for Daisy and couldn't find one. Never mind, one of Stanley's ties would work just fine. I grabbed his keys and took the adorable Daisy out for her morning ablutions. As soon as we got outside, I put her down and let her sniff around while I held on to her tie/leash. Daisy looked up at me and with a quick wiggle, slipped out of her collar and ran.

I gave chase across a vast area of grass (open green space) and after about 15 minutes finally caught up with the little bitch. Sweating and swearing, I picked her up and looked around. We were going back home and if she went potty in the condo, too damned bad. I started back when I had the most horrid thought. Looking around, there were about five high rises all exactly alike.

I started shaking when the truth hit me. I had no idea which high rise we had come from. I knew Stanley's condo was on the 17th floor, but of WHICH building? For that matter, what the hell was his apartment number! Had I been properly dressed, this whole thing would have intimidated me less, but I wasn't. I was shivering in a slight rain wearing an unlined trench coat and 4 inch stilettos, carrying the Divine Daisy and some keys. My hair and face showed that I had just climbed out of bed. I had no idea what to do when I saw an early morning jogger.

I had no choice, I approached the man. I told him "Excuse me. I took Daisy out for her morning walk, and now I don't know how to get back to my friend's apartment. Can you help me?" The guy gave me a knowing look and said "Honey, do you know his name?" I summoned as much self respect as I could and said "Of course, I know his name. It's Doctor Wolfe!" The man looked slightly amused at my use of the title and took me to a place where they had a register of the residents, eying me with speculation the entire time. I was shaking with outrage and humiliation and hatred for Daisy and Stanley for that matter. I found Stanley's location and marched back to the condo. The jogger watched me walk away. I could feel his eyes on my back!

Stanley got back about noon, and snickered and shook his head when I told him of my adventure. He could keep his stupid Emeryville condo and his stupid dog too.

3 comments:

  1. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Daisy was not the innocent!

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  2. Hilarious! I would have been so lost, too! At least you had the foresight to put a coat on!

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  3. Those were the good old, bad old days, CLL. You probably have the same tales!

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