I forgot I had other plans, and couldn’t make the 4:50 showing of Cairo Time.
WRH: I quit work early, in plenty of time to catch the 2:30 showing. I decided to take BART, but when I got to the station, discovered there were 45-minute delays.
WRH: The Fremont train arrived just as I was coming down the escalator. Amazing. In minutes I was at the Embarcadero. I had time to kill. I went to the transportation museum to buy a t-shirt to give to Jamie. There were no Large in blue so the helpful attendant pawed through stacks until he finally found one. It took forever.
WRH: He opened a cupboard and, snap, there one was. I paid with a $20. I still had plenty of time. Walking to the theater I realized that the 20 was the last of my cash, and I knew that the theater doesn’t accept cards.
WRH: I didn’t know any such thing. I just figured if I hurried, I could find a nearby ATM and still make it back for showtime. I must have walked 4 blocks before I found one.
WRH: There was a Wells Fargo right across from Embarcadero 2, on California Street, but long lines at both of the machines.
WRH: There was one person, and he was walking away. I got my 200 bucks, and waited for my card to be expelled. And waited. I began to wonder if the machine had eaten it.
WRH: It was a little slower than usual. If I sped it up, I could still make the previews, even though I don’t like previews like I used to. I was thinking about previews and read the pedestrian sign 10 9 8 7 backwards, that is, instead of rushing across stopped traffic, I hurried into the oncoming rush and was hit by a taxi.
WRH: Swore at by a taxi driver. I entered the claustrophobia that is Embarcadero Two. In this complex I always get lost.
WRH: You can’t get lost. The theater was where it always is. The clock read, on the nose, 2:30, as I forked over the price of a ticket. Before going in, I decided to get a coffee and something to eat at the concession stand. The least not wanted choice was a cookie with cranberries. I forced myself to eat it.
WRH: It wasn’t terrible. The tiresome commercials before the tiresome previews weren’t even over before I had scarfed it. The movie at last began. Turned out it stunk.
WRH: I enjoyed it. There were lots of shots of Cairo. I came out of the theater floating down the lazy river of unrequited longing. An old story, no? It was still the same day. The clock on the Ferry Building showed four twenty five. How unreal the city seemed.