Must Direct Them to the Fire!

Visiting San Francisco again was like going to your summer home again. You know for the most part, the important things- the address, door, the part of the stone path that has a wobbly pebble that'll give unsuspecting strangers a sprained ankle will all be there. There is that vague sense of familiarity, yet mixed with a tinge of strangeness and newness because you haven't been there in a year and forgot that life moves on at its own pace without you.

So on a relatively warm, bright, sunny day, rather unusual for San Francisco, I was heading from Fisherman's Wharf to Pier 33. The walk was lovely even though I did end up weaving in and out of the crowd as my feet still seemed to think they were in NYC. The problem however is that there was a fire on the other side of the city prompting 2-3 ambulances, fire engine trucks and police cars to zoom down the street, sirens blaring. Even that was acceptable, maybe ev en a small reminder of home in New York, except....the tourists.

I have no problems with being a tourist in a city. In fact I'm a tourist in every city but NYC and like most tourists, I've accepted the fact that I'm not exactly aware of where things really are. Yet, in front of me stood a 6'4" burly tourist who stared at the line of speeding vehicles and proceeded to point, YES....raise his hand and POINT to the direction of where he "thought" the fire was....on a ONE way street. Now I ask. . . did he think that the city of San Francisco were so ill-equipped that there was no radio on their trucks? That a series of tourists notified dispatch that there was a fire on the other side of town? Still, I was even going to let that pass, and not spoil by day, until I crossed a block, and still ANOTHER tourist kept pointing, not waving, to the direction of where he saw the last car go by. The other pet peeve I have is that it's a one way street. Where on earth did they think this fire truck was going to go?

Still, as I crossed yet another block, another person scrambled through his bag and upon seeing the trucks mumbled, oh the fire trucks, fire . . . must make a phone call. And I ask yet again, to whom? The Fire Dept? To notify them of the fire that they're already on top of. I've tried to let the moments of frustration pass me by but as the final truck ran blaring through the street, a few others pointed to the direction that all the vehicles were going....on . . . a ONE WAY street.

Maybe only I find this annoying and silly. But I was so caught up in this moment of exasperation, that I had no choice but to walk briskly away and completely forgot to take photos of it. However, I did take some lovely pictures of San Francisco. Fog, Sun, or in between.