An Act of Cruelty

OK, I admit it. While I am usually a reasonably nice person nowadays, every now and then I am possessed by the devil for just long enough to do something cruel.

Like today, on this gorgeous day with the whole city scrubbed squeaky clean by yesterday’s rain and the air crystalline and the streets filled with folks enjoying the Noe Valley Farmers’ Market and the Noe Valley Harvest Festival on 24th Street and the Boccalone salumi pickup day enlivening Church at 27th Street.

So I’m cruising around on the Segway taking pics, and on 26th Street there’s this Victorian.


What you don’t see is that on the ground floor the garage door is open and this young bodybuilder is strutting around in there doing this workout with these huge stacks of weights which he is tossing around seemingly effortlessly with his enormous, bulging muscles.

And a little voice in my head started whispering, “Louis, don’t do it! It would be cruel, unspeakably cruel.” But I couldn’t stop myself.

I confess: I rolled back and forth in the street in front of his garage door with my camera pointed high, taking pics of that luscious architectural detail on the upper parts of his house. Nothing below the second floor, of course. And then pocketed the camera and pointed at the upper floors and shouted as I sped away, “Nice paint job”!

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