I’m back in San Francisco for good (for now), and from hereon out, I will continue to do what I do most often/best, which is write about daily experiences in a way that is humorous and hopefully touching. Since I’m San Francisco based, I will most often write about the things I see and do in this city.
Speaking of which, there’s something you should know about. Some of you might already know about it. Others have heard but think it’s a false rumor. Still others of you will have no idea what I’m talking about. Most will have stopped reding altogether and are looking for new gifs to send their co-workers.
I’m talking about the bison that right now, at this very moment in time, no matter when you’re reading this even if it’s far into the future or even just tomorrow, that there are bison right now quietly grazing in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. Some of them are lying down. One might be pooping or thinking about it. Another is standing looking out at the trees that are probably clouded in fog. I don’t know what they’re doing, but they’re there.
The rumors and park signage about bison in Golden Gate Park are true. They’re there and I have now seen them for myself, with my own eyes.
I was out for one of my now-regular morning jogs and it was almost time to turn around and go back to the house but I’d seen something recently about the bison and they were on my mind. Perhaps I would make my way to the famed Bison Paddock.
Besides, I thought to myself, I don’t really have anything to get back to, so I might as well explore the northwestern side of Golden Gate park which I believed was mostly a myth.
But it is myth no longer. I ventured farther and farther into the unknown regions of the park. I saw a sign for the Bison Paddock, so I knew I was close. I wondered what other scenarios would be appropriate to use the word paddock in. I got tired of running.
Then the road forked and went on a slight incline and all of the sudden I was above a field that spread out to my right and there they were, the giant shaggy beasts that used to roam the plains and make thunder with their hooves. There were about eight of them, gently grazing in the paddock like Twitter had never even been invented.
It was the essence of serenity, just watching these animals graze, totally absorbed in the ground right at their feet and unconcerned with anything else. It was beauty.
I reluctantly jogged on and at the next intersection, a man on a bike started yelling at a car just ahead of him, “Why the f***k are you sitting there?! Why the f***k are you just sitting there!?” The car was turning right and had a red light and a chance to turn but didn’t take it. I guess the biker was just in a hurry.
Maybe he could have learned a lesson from the bison on how to not be an asshole.
Snotting black 