Nob Hill (Blogophilia 27.13)

 "Breathe Deep, the gathering gloom..."

5:00 AM. I never had to look. 94-Q always played it the same time Sunday morning. Like Pavlov's dog, the gong seemed to give me energy. The poem matched my mood this morning. The paper drop had been late and I was at least a half-hour behind getting things done. It was humid and I was already sweating.

I chug my old car into the open space and shut off the motor. Sunday sunrise wasn't for another hour, but noise didn't matter at Nob Hill. It was the pinnacle of the Swinging Singles lifestyle. 425 units done in a faux Mediterranean style, spread over 16 wooded acres. The parties had made it the place for up and coming image-makers. They were the Young Americans. The parking lot showed what was important, Morgans, Jags, and Mercedes. The only thing it didn't have on its main rival, Riverbend, was a river. 

For a sixteen-year-old kid, it was paradise. 

Buildings 10 and 11, by the small pool, had 18 customers and the craziest residents. You never were sure what you were going to see on any given morning. Another car pulls next to me. The driver gets out and trips on the curb. Drunk is normal here. 

I count the papers for the building and tucked them in the bag. I knew what would happen. The front page would go to the trash. Men wanted sports and the women liked fashion and gossip. It didn't matter what was going on in DC. They were a bunch of irrelevant old men hearing themselves talk.

What was on the front page today anyway? Gerald Ford tripped again. Nothing new...Another article on saving Skylab. Why would they do that? Doesn't matter. When you're the government, the money is unlimited... Another article on String Theory and its impact on the future. Dr. DiGuisto mentioned it in Beginning Physics, but it was like arguing about angels on the head of a pin to me. I was happier spinning records and quoting Al Jaffee. 

The best feature was the outdoor beer taps at the pool gates. It was 50/50 they'd be working. Depending on who was at the pool, I'd slip in for a quick one wIn no one was looking. A yellow Motoguzzi sat next to the access stairs. Somebody never left the Mod era. But that was cool. I liked the little things. You felt like an English Hipster when you rode. 

Splashing and shouting. The late crew was at the pool again. Skinny dipping was a regular occurrence. Maybe now? I dodge a lady with her top dangling from her neck. The smile told me all I needed to know. "Suffragette City was playing on a portable radio. The song came to the climax and 15 people screamed the signature line.

"Wham! Bam! Thank you, Ma'am!" 

These fools didn't do Disco. Maybe I'd get invited. 

Somebody yelled: "I got some fucking acid! Anybody want some?"

Don't lean on me man, I think. Everything had to be delivered by 7 and it was already 5:15. It would have to be no.

I stop at the entrance to building 10 and look over the iron fence. Everyone drunk...and naked. Two couples were making out on the sides with the others cheering them on. They won't notice me. I walk up to the taps and grab a cup…

Pssssh.

Damn it. Empty The bastards drunk it all up.

I leave and finish my route. Maybe the other pool's taps were working.

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Topic-Dave Coon

Pic-Dahlia Ramone

Pic guesses: Motoguzzi (in blog), Hipster (in blog), Mod (in Blog), scooter, crosswalk, yellow (in blog), Euro, Space Oddity