27 March 2020. Solano (China Village).
Evening--or dusk, rather. setting out just after seven, the sun not yet down. I tuck a blue cotton bandana into my bag, along with the small bottle of water, reusable, and a vial of hand-cleaner gel. Supplies. And it is an adventure of sorts--the event of the day, these days--getting out of the house come evening. I've always loved the night-time walks, but C urges me to be careful--and after all, Solano is pretty much deserted at that later hour. A few cars, maybe moving a little faster than usual, all seemingly with purpose. The Safeway truck, backed into its slot (a strange moment of normalcy). Lights on inside the store, lot half-full. I always contemplate the forbidden land...
Here above we're farther down the street--I'm into my stride. Corner of China Village--the popular neighborhood restaurant that used to look so terribly inviting (back in late 2011) seen through the big windows, each table filled with people--a family sharing an ample platter of stir-fry, or so it seemed from just outside. Something delectable braised in brown sauce. They would sometimes turn and look--a glance at the stranger, but unperturbed--the food was too good, and the company, too (especially the Chinese families, where a meal together always seemed to be a social occasion, with much talk back and forth between their animated bites of food...)
You can see the shift, of course (a touch of O'Henry coming)--the room is empty, almost entirely dark. Tables set out with place-settings, but just one waiter--or maybe the owner's son, seated farther back inside, staring down at something, reading, or more likely, looking at his phone. The window says Open for Take-Out. That's what they all say, but we're only into the second week of this, and my mind goes to after--when all that corporate dough piles in, Chipotles to the far horizon...
But not to conclude on this grim note--the walk is too good. All that fresh air, the wind off the bay, a certain briskness. So engaging that ones troubles disappear--wait a minute, I don't have any troubles... (!)
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Back up the hill, a man on the sidewalk farther off, heading my way. White patch around his nose and mouth. As he gets closer, I see that its a moustache and beard, not a mask. I remark on this. His jaunty smile: "Goatee!" Hey, we have something in common...
