fuzzygruf | Special Ed working as Quasimodo?

I took a break to go check my PO Box. After S's great gift yesterday, I knew it'd be empty. It's been empty for weeks. Not today. There was a neatly addressed envelope to "Mr. Gary." I love getting "fan" mail. I find it bizarre that people actually write to me from my dumb ad that I got "free" for being pictured in the magazine.

I usually rip open the envelopes and read them immediately. (Ok, all three of them, LOL.) I did rip it open and notice that there was a pic and a letter. I decide to find a decent spot outside to sit and relax before taking a look at the contents. I walk up past the bear lunch grassy knoll. I see a crowd over on the traffic island in the heart of Herb Caen Way and lots of cops around. Oh yeah, the re-starting of the ferry building clock. I find a bench in the sun in hearing distance of the speeches going on.

I open the letter to find a pic of a man a fair distance away from the camera. Can't make out many features. No facial hair, nicely stocky, on his tip toes. The letter states that he's 5'9" and 168#. Hmmm. Looks like 5'7" and 215#. I'm familiar with that size. I'm guessing that someone who is 168# and 25 years old doesn't have double chins. Maybe I'm wrong. The letter starts off odd. Apparently, he's mistaken my ad for one seeking a boy/servant/slave. Egads. The letter is very neatly written. Poor kid seems in a bad situation at home. He used the phrase "Desperate...no, frantic!" 4 different times. Now I'm happy I have a PO Box address and not my home address listed. It's not too tough to find, but may as well not make it too easy. Not sure if I should write back to explain he got my ad mixed up with another one, or to just ignore it. I'd hate to encourage him further. This is one "fan" letter that made me feel ill. But I was pleased to see such good penmanship!

I only had to endure about 10 minutes of speeches before noon. One speaker quoted Herb Caen as saying that "a birthday cake without a candle is like the ferry building without it's clock working." I reread the letter, took a picture for a Japanese tourist in front of the crowd and the clock tower, explained the reason for the crowd to the Japanese tourist, and took a short walk around the ugly fountain. Willie Brown was now speaking, so it must be close to noon. From my new vantage point, I could scarcely make out his words. Fine with me. At noon he presses the button. I'm not sure what to expect. Oh yeah. There are chimes. I didn't expect that. Now chimes to mark the hour: one...two...three...four...five...six...seven...eight...nine...ten.......... Oh. They stopped. Oops. Special Ed, is that you working??? Wait, they start the chimes again. I start to head back to work as I count. "...ten...eleven...twelve!" Whew.