Pier 39

Just beyond the parade of t-shirt and scrimshaw shops along San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf is Pier 39, a small marina for pleasure boats and vessels that make daily excursions out to Alcatraz. At the end of the pier, there are about a dozen floating docks the size of a raft to which one might swim and sun themselves during a family vacation at the lake. On each dock, there were several sea lions, splayed out in all of their blubbery glory, as the sun dried the water off of their skin.

Some docks had just a couple of sea lions. Others had as many as 10 or 12, so many that on some, the corner of the dock was partially submerged from the weight.

The sea lions on some rafts slept peacefully, lined up like sardines, their little fin-like arms draped over the creature next to them. One had its tail sticking right up onto the neck of another, like a person’s foot might end up in the face of a friend if the two were sleeping head to toe. The sea lion with the tail in his face didn’t seem to mind. He simply pointed his head upward, lest he would get a fin in his mouth.

Other rafts were less peaceful, as one sea lion– usually a large one – would sit vigil on the corner of the raft and use the top of his head, while bearing his teeth, to keep other sea lions from getting on the raft.

On some rafts, this sentry seemed to be protecting his family from intruders, while making sure they had enough room. But on others, there would sometimes be a large sea lion sitting in the middle of a raft all by himself, with plenty of room, and yet if another sea lion dared to climb up, he would rush to the edge and use his head to try to push the invading animal back into the water. As the two animals locked in struggle, their mouths would open revealing a couple of teeth under their whiskers. Their growls sounded like they’d kill over something much smaller.

On one particular raft toward the front of the pier, a sea lion, who had a float all to himself, rushed over to the edge as another sea lion approached. The intruder managed to get onto the float but only just. He was still near the edge when the sea lion already on the raft rushed him and pushed him over the edge.

The intruder made a second go, rushing the raft, climbing on top, but again, as he tried to get himself farther into the middle of the raft, the other sea lion pushed him back into the water. He tried again, only this time, he swam around to the other side of the raft, climbing up onto the corner. The sneak attack gave him a little more time to get farther onto the raft, and before long, he was in a pushing match with the other sea lion, as the two head butted each other and barked. The intruder was now in the more advantageous position, fighting from the middle of the raft, while the other sea lion was slowly being pushed toward the edge.

But then suddenly, the other sea lion seemed to give up the fight. He relaxed his body, and let it sink down to the ground as if he was about to give in. As he did that, the second sea lion relaxed, and as soon as he let his guard down, the first one popped up and swung around so that he had the power position in the middle of the raft and his opponent , putting his opponent to the middle of the raft, putting him once again in the position of power. Soon, he was once again pushing the second sea lion toward the edge of the raft with his head, farther, farther, until the second one dropped backward into the water.

The second sea lion made another rush at the corner of the raft, only to swim around again and sneak onto the back corner of the raft, getting up on top of it, and again pushing his advantage against the first sea lion, only to fall once again for the old "I don’t want to fight anymore” maneuver, wherein the first one once again reversed the situation, got into the power position in the middle of the raft, and pushed the second one backwards until he fell off the edge of the raft and back into the bay. The second one loitered for a moment under the water at the edge of the raft before swimming off, leaving the first one victorious and baying on his empty raft.

Broadway

When I arrived at the restaurant, David was already standing out front. David and Bill were going to take me out for my birthday, but at the last minute, Bill cancelled because he had to take care of his sister, who was on crutches. David said once Bill cancelled, he was going to cancel as well.

“I didn’t know what we were going to talk about,” he said. A college drop-out who does odd jobs for people on our block, David usually left the talking to Bill, who was a little more polished.

“I know you, too,” I told him, as we sat down at a table outside.

As we ate lunch, we talked about people on our block, how Mrs. Washington’s husband was cheating on her and yet she refused to kick him out, how Mrs. Beatrice spoke so rudely to her children, people were tempted to call child services, how a man who planned to run for mayor had just moved in to number 106. I liked to hear stories about the doctor for whom David did maintenance work now and again. Dr. Dora was always having trouble with her tenants, and I liked to hear about it because it made me feel like I was in good company. I had troubles of my own, and I liked to be reminded I wasn’t the only one.

When we finished our meal, the waiter brought the bill. David took it, and said it was his treat. As he looked down at the check, he began shaking his head and smiling. “I knew it,” he said. “It’s fifty dollars.”

He began to tell me how he’d never been to the restaurant, and so not wanting to be late, he arrived 30 minutes early. He was born and raised in New York City, but he spent most of that time in Harlem. He wasn’t that familiar with the Upper West side. With nowhere to go, he sat down on one of the benches located on a greenway that ran along the middle of Broadway.

Soon, he began talking to a man seated a few benches down. The man was waiting for a delivery from the grocery store, and his truck was parked along Broadway. David told him how he had wanted to get his truck driver’s license, but things hadn’t gone as planned, which is often the way it goes.

As he spoke, David noticed an elderly gentlemen walking across two lanes of traffic, heading right toward him. The man was white, about 75 years old, and had a thick mane of white hair and an unkempt appearance, as if he hadn’t bathed or changed his clothes in a few days. The old man mumbled as he walked. He stopped short a few feet away from David and continued to talk to himself as David finished his conversation. When the delivery man got up and went back to his truck, the old man walked toward David.

"Are you hungry?” he asked.

Here we go, David thought. A black man sitting in the middle of Broadway. He must be hungry.

It was the old man who looked hungry.

“No, thanks,” David said.

“I’ve got these coupons,” the man said.

David said he’d seen the two coupons sticking out of the man’s pocket.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” the man said.

“Yes,” David said. He lied.

The old man grabbed David’s hand and stuck a crumpled bill into it.

“Take this,” the man said. “Go buy your girlfriend a meal.”

David said he noticed a five on the bill.

“You sure you don’t need this?” David asked.

“Don’t worry. There’s plenty more where that came from,” the man said.

David said he thought the old man would be happy now and leave him alone. He could tell the man just wasn’t going to quit until David took something from him. As he took the money, David thanked the man, but then he suddenly feared it was a set up and looked both ways to see if anyone was watching. He imagined the man would flash a badge and David would be arrested.
For what, he wasn’t sure.

A black man stood on the sidewalk across the two lanes of traffic watching the exchange. He waited in anticipation, hoping the old man would approach him next. But when the old man crossed the street, he walked right by the man and headed downtown along Broadway.

After the old man walked away, David opened up the bill in his hand and saw it was $50.

“I think this guy walks around and gives money away,” David said.

“They say there’s an old guy who comes to Harlem around Christmas time and gives money away to people along 125th Street. Maybe that was him.”

David picked up our lunch bill.

“See that? It’s $50. I knew it,” he said, and smiled as he placed the bill on top of the check.