![]() ![]() Everyone was respectable, freshly scrubbed and in their day’s attire. We were waiting with the business crowd to catch a morning bus. The next day, and this simply must be included, we saw some shit go down. An enormous rainbow flag flew against the blue sky, and well-dressed people walking niche breeds of dogs stopped to chat on their door stoops or at shop fronts. The subway station had a plaque dedicated to Harvey Milk, the famous gay politician who had secured important rights in San Francisco. A guy returning home from the morning’s race walked past completely starkers and a bum yelled at him. ![]() We got off at Castro, a neighbourhood with a large gay community and great cafes. Some have power trips like bouncers, but in my experience mostly good. “What are the cops in Australia like?” they asked me. He was from New York City and told me it had changed a lot since the 9/11 attack, with cameras virtually everywhere in the centre. “Usually we just ask people to put their clothes back on afterwards, but it’s not really a problem.” “We don’t have much trouble on the Breakers day,” the male cop told me. I’d heard the cops here were pretty violent, but these two were exceptionally nice. On the train I talked to two San Fran cops to get the measure of the place. That is what living in a liberal city is all about. It was a parade of the weird and wonderful, and made me love the city more.Įvery now and then a serious runner would pass eyes straight ahead, dodging naked butts and Mr Potato Heads. There was a definite salute to San Fran’s gay community and gay and lesbian rights movement. There was a great contingent of proud older men, most with penis rings or decorated headwear. Well if you hadn’t, today was your day! We stopped counting at 50.Īll sorts of bodies came by completely bare. If you’re in it to win it the bounce factor is not an option.Įveryone got excited and a guy running past yelled out “What? Haven’t you ever seen a naked person before?” The man was starkers and the woman (being liberated but not irrational) wore a sports bra. Then, in the pack of serious runners close behind, we spotted our first naked people. The African runners led, naturally, their long limbs eating the bitumen with grace and ease. We didn’t really know what we were in for. The bad-ass San Fran cops cleared the streets and the buzzer sounded. Just like me ten years ago!Ī guy pissed on the street and we moved positions. There were of course the typical annoying drunk people, young kids who think being loud equals being the most drunk. We got in position and let the chaos unfold around us. The annual Bay to Breakers Race was on….kicking off about two blocks from our hotel.Įveryone dresses up for it and there are skill levels from the Kenyans, who do the long distance as a sprint, right down to the fraternity kids who have been drinking since daybreak. While in San Fran we had a stroke of luck. Look at every streaker to ever grace a sporting field: white ass blazing and skin slapping. I have always admired nudity in public, particularly as it’s not usually the good-looking people who seem to lead the way. The toilet on a flower shop, and running bare ![]()
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