Marian

      So cold,so cold today! Jeez!  What goin' on? It's that global warrin' stuff they're talkin' about on the news alla time at the Center. That's what it is! That global warrin' stuff, Marian mumbled to her self as she placed her large light blue straw hat on her head, just so.  She had a date to meet at the Center for the $1.50  lunch, and wanted to look the best she could.  So she took all the time she needed to make sure the favorite hat was at just the right angle to frame her face, and cover the bare spot in the wig she had chosen for this special occasion.
      Manny may not be much, she thought to herself, but beggars cannot be choosers! And she laughed loudly out loud to no one in particular, since she was alone in her SRO little cubby of an apartment.  It was that same laugh that so startled passersby whenever her internal dialogs got a little too much to contain, as she strolled along the streets of San Francisco, from one appointment to another.  She knew exactly why she was laughing - there was, after all, so much to laugh about - but no one else would have a clue, so the sharp and loud laughter would often startle people walking near her.  Sometimes, she noticed their feet even slightly left the ground, they were so surprised.  This made her laugh even more, though she'd try to tone it down, so they wouldn't know that she knew. That she saw what fools they were.  Marian had little patience for fools.
      Marian lived in that comfortable world of her own pretty much all the time now, though she would every so often peek out of it and engage in the world around her when something interesting caught her eye or her ear. In the case of Manny , however, it was his smell that caught her nose.  He had doused himself heavily with a mens cologne that had piqued her memory and her curiosity, so she opened the rest of her solitary senses to him, just long enough to chat, make a date for today and give her the energy to plan for it it.  She was hoping that by spending more time with him, she'd be able to remember what his fragrance reminded her of, and she hoped he would wear the same cologne today.  It was just at the tip of her memory, but just wouldn't come clear. Today she hoped it would. It's why she allowed herself the rare indulgence of making the lunch date with Manny in the first place. She needed to remember.
      Marian looked at herself in the spotty, freckled mirror and gave herself tacit approval: the hat was just right. Wrong season, this light blue straw, she assessed, but winter in San Francisco is like Spring anyway, so what the hell? She gave a fleeting thought to the hundreds of homeless out there on there on the streets who came to San Francisco for the weather, and for a moment felt the age-old resentment she'd always felt about people taking advantage. Damn fools oughtta get jobs, that's what they need to do! But then she reminded herself of her need to have compassion for those less fortunate, and her resentment faded away. Marian was once upon a time an ardent follower of the Dharma Path, and even at this time in her disheveled life, her practice could penetrate her usual fog and influence her thinking.  She added an extra dab of lip color from the tube she'd found in the trash can outside her back door the day before, blessed her good fortune having found it, and picked up her bags. Don't want to be late! For my very important date!  For a moment, Marian totally forgot what she was doing, where she was going and why - this happened often to her, many times a day - but suddenly clicked back into knowing, and with a sigh of relief left her apartment, carefully locking the poor excuse for a lock behind her. Never can be too careful!


      She'd counted out her two dollars for the bus the night before, from her plastic Tupperware container under her bed, and vowing to replenish the eight quarters as soon as she could, she tied them in one of her mother's pretty hankies and slept with them under her pillow. They were now sitting securely in the corner of her large shopping bag, so she knew exactly how to find them when the bus rolled up. She could walk to the Center, but on this windy cold day did not want her wig to look bad , so she decided to take the bus instead.  It would also be easier on her legs. Not doin' too good these days these old pins. Hell of a city to end up in, with bad feet and legs. Marian had stopped climbing the hills of the city a while back.  And made sure her routes to the various food kitchens she frequented were on as much of the flat part of this city famous for its hills as she possibly could.  Hell of a thing, she thought.

      Standing at the bus stop on Van Ness, Marian was grateful when one of those little folding seats became vacant , and though she felt her large rear end overflowing the small seat, and her dress being too tight into the bargain, she was glad for the chance to sit.  Kids in San Francisco are so nice here, she thought, and once again blessed her good fortune at making this city her home. Back in the Apple I'd be standin' til I dropped dead!  Yeah, the kids are nice here. Actually, the young woman who left  the seat free was trying to get as far away from Marian as she could, as if the "bag-lady look" Marian sported was a communicable disease.  But, Marian, looking through her customary rose-colored glasses, saw only the up side: this thoughtful young person was offering her a chance to rest.  Something about "the kindness of strangers" passed through Marian's mind. A retired actress, Marian had played all the great Tennessee Williams roles, among others, and the many scripts she'd memorized were as much a part of her mental landscape as anything else.
      Marian's bright orange lips were sticky with the old make-up, and her eyebrows, thickly drawn in, were slightly above where any normal brows would be. Her light blue polyester straw hat , with its extremely large curvy brim was perched atop her wigged head like a bird in flight, but nonetheless secure there. Her handsome face, with its large brown eyes, was pink with a favorite rouge, and her false teeth, a bit too large for her mouth, were clean and sparkling. She always saw to that.  The blue flowered rayon dress, tight across her breasts and stomach, encased her thickening legs and hips in far too little cloth to keep the wind out, but her full slip and two pairs of panty hose helped keep her warm. She'd been able to find two pairs of hose that had runs in different places, so she was grateful for that too. So much to be grateful for, really, Marian thought, as the bus pulled up to the stop. Oh, that's the nice lady driver! Oh goody! And Marian knew her two dollars were safe for another day: this driver never made her pay.  She flashed the woman at the wheel a large smile with her clean bright plastic teeth. And received a smile in return, as the driver place her small dark hand over the cash box, letting Marian sit for free.  This really is the best place to live!  I am so lucky! And she placed herself carefully in the one empty seat remaining between two elderly passengers.

      Suddenly, Marina felt a slight pinch in her toes. Aw, hell! Damned flip-flops! I knew I should 'a worn real shoes!  Marian considered her feet and toes one of her best features, despite the pain they brought her, so for this special date, she'd opted to wear her favorite summertime flip-flops, the ones with the sparkly blue thongs that went between her toes.  She loved wearing these in the summer time, and they matched her dress perfectly. The problem of course were the two pairs of panty hose she'd had to wear for warmth: cramming the sparkly thongs between her big toe and her second toe on each foot,  against the very resistant netting of two pairs of pantyhose was difficult, but by letting the panty part of the rigging come down perilously low on her hips, she managed to get the flip-flops on firmly between the toes, at last!  Now, however, not only were the toes protesting (she probably should have cut her toenails first), but her panty hose were in grave danger of falling all the way down below her ankles when she finally had to stand up.
      Damn! Aw well, I'll worry about that when we get there. Right now, I've got a seat, and I'll ignore the pinching. I've felt worse, God knows!  And she gave a little chuckle. Marian had the marvelous ability to be in the moments of her life, and ignore whatever unpleasantness tried to push its way in. So, she placed a pleasant smile on her painted face, tilted her head back so her fine profile was framed well against the pale blue straw, and looked forward through the wide front windows of the city bus.  Her lunch date awaited, come falling panty hose or no, and she looked forward to remembering what his cologne reminded her of:  a mystery, and a good warm meal lay ahead.

Rhonda from Arizona

      Rhonda  was raised by her grandmother in a luxurious retirement community in Arizona.
      Raisa took charge of raising her only grandchild when Rhonda's mother Billie was arrested on drug possession charges in a raid on a Lombard Street "horse" den in San Francisco, and swearing that she would never give Rhonda back to Billie, the 66-year-old grandmother took complete charge of her 4-year-old granddaughter, making Rhonda the one and only year-round child resident of the Shining Canyon  Village right outside Phoenix, Arizona.  She'd had to go before the Village Board of Directors to plead her case, but without much protest or resistance (except from that one pesky woman named Dorothy who lived down her street), Raisa was granted permission to bring her "poor, drug-addicted - from-birth orphaned granddaughter"  to live with her: it would give Shining Canyon Village a mission, and distinguish it from all the other carved-from-the-desert retirement communities surrounding them. They would have their very own child for the entire Village to raise.
      Gladstone Payton - the Jamaican doctor who had delivered Rhonda in Arizona, and had subsequently become her obstetrician in Shining Canyon Village - used to joke with Rhonda that he and she were the only two "outsiders" in the otherwise white,  elderly, conventional population there, and from Dr. Payton, Rhonda learned about the wider world. He was the only person of color throughout her  childhood, and at first, Rhonda thought he was that dark because he had spent a lot of time out in the sunshine.  But eventually he explained to her about where he was born - his beautiful Jamaica - and even at an early age, Rhonda determined to go there, visit its gentle rolling hills and wide ocean, and maybe even live among the kind, colorful people, all of whom, she imagined, were as interesting as Dr. Glad.
      Another thing she decided, as she grew into her teen years, was to one day settle and live in a place that had cloudy weather, and that also had people younger than 66 years of age.  As much as she adored her grandmother, who, by the way, did not allow her to watch television more than one hour each evening, it didn't take Rhonda long to realize there was a entire world full of difference out beyond the flat desert confines.  She soon knew way deep within that she would simply have to leave all that was familiar as soon as she could, and go find her mother, who kept having her sentence prolonged because of bad behavior in her correctional institution near San Francisco.
      So, on a day soon after her graduation from high school, Rhonda got into her used Ford Focus - a graduation gift from the Retirement Village - and drove the twelve hours it took to arrive in the City by the Bay.  Her San Francisco life was soon to begin.
  

Jerome the Third

      Sallie's upbringing in Villejo had been meagre, and from childhood she had the sort of skinny body that fat would never even consider clinging to, but then, a strange thing happened when she met Jerome the Third. An energetic thief, whose every crime was petty, Jerome the Third made a big deal out of everyone calling him Jerome the Third, as if calling him that would at least sound important, no matter  how unimportant he always felt. He referred to it as his "calling card"that would distinguish him from his cronies, and even Sallie had to admit when she first met him, she'd had visions of a Jerome the First and Second who may have somehow been wealthy, and that some of that wealth might trickle down to the Third. But, of course, like everything else with Jerome the Third, this fantasy soon wafted away, and what she was left with was a mean man who nonetheless liked to take her out to fancy meals.
      And, like never before in her life, Sallie began to put on weight. Making love with Jerome the Third, bumptious and not always pleasant, seemed to magically change her metabolism, and soon, all the angles that first attracted Jerome the Third to her disappeared under mountainous curves of soft flesh, and mere months after getting together, Sallie was  healthy, happy with how she felt, and getting fatter without  regret.  Jerome the Third, at first in love with her bony body, now fell deeper in love with her as she began to bloom larger, and he was especially turned on by the fact that each and every meal he bought her gave her such intense happiness that, for the first time in his life, he felt he had a true purpose: to find finer , more exotic restaurants to take her to, so he could watch her devour every rich morsel of the food laid before her. Sallie ate, and Jerome the Third was nourished.
      Then, as of the ground had been sufficiently prepared, Sallie got pregnant.
      Without even knowing if it was a boy or girl, they decided to name it Chaz. Jerome the Third wanted no Fourth to eclipse him, and Chaz sounded smooth and sexy to them both, so their son (no thought of a daughter, really) would be named Chas on his arrival into their world, for which Jerome the Third began to plan and connive: a next "job" had to be found, and this one had to be his largest petty crime yet.
 

Sallie

      She moved her large body gracefully between tables, and slapped the check down on the corner booth table, populated by the party of seven, (five of whom were kids all under the age of 16), and after a dull stab of sympathy for the grey-with-exhaustion mother, and an indulgent moment of deep dislike for the florid and loud father of the group, she chirped a bright "Thanks, and have a great day in San Francisco", as she sailed her way back to the front check-out register to let that nice couple from table five pay and get on with their day of sightseeing and buying every souvenir in sight.

      The staff of Larry's Cafe were all trained to say that, "Thanks, and have a great day in San Francisco" , with as much sincere cheer as they could muster, and were judged harshly by Larry and his wife Lorraine if it ever came across as false or forced. All in all , not a bad thing to require of the wait staff, since it did seem to nudge the tips a bit higher, especially if said with a true smile, and after all, no one around Larry's had to wear any of that tacky crap ("bling", they called it?) on their uniforms like the poor guys over at Beach Street Diner had to wear, (the more the obnoxiously merrier), so a bit of genuine cordiality and friendliness  - (a slogan of Larry's: " Larry's Cafe, the cordial and friendly family place") wasn't so hard to manage.  And she really meant it for that poor Mom of five. If she could find five minutes of alone time to sit peacefully by the Bay, it would be worth her entire vacation. So Sallie hoped that the grey-looking woman could lose the kids , and that overbearing Dad, for a good solid five.

      "Uhm, pardon me," another, forgotten, customer from the back room table for one quietly interrupted. "Uh, could I have that coffee and Diet Coke any time soon? I am dying of thirst after all the  walking , y'know...".

      "Oh God, so sorry! That hasn't come yet? I'm compin' you on those, Hon,  and they'll be right there. So sorry! Jorge! Coffee and Diet C at number 11? Where IS that?" , Sallie yelled over her shoulder, smiling at the customer, but mad as hell at Jorge, who seemed to be back in Mexico this morning, rather than at Larry's, where he kept screwing up orders making Sallie's life that much rougher. And her headache sharper.  She needed to find a moment to gulp some Ibu's, or her head would snap off her neck.  "Jorge, coffee and Diet C, please! Number 11!"

      The placated customer slunk back to her table for one, and dove back into a stack of unwritten postcards.  Sallie liked her, as she seemed to understand the busy rhythms of the early morning breakfast rush, and had moved courteously from a four-top to her solo table, when asked to do so, and made no fuss about it. Sallie like people who seemed to understand the unspoken rules.  Jerome the Third never did, Sallie thought, then silently chastised herself for letting that quick memory of her last boyfriend sneak into her head.  Immediately, she countered its effect by saying out loud "Rhonda! Rhonda...Rhonda!"
      It's one of the things that had attracted her to Rhonda: Rhonda understood , and when she didn't , she re-wrote the rules, and simply expected Sallie to understand the changes. It was like they could read each other's minds. No arguments, no drama, just a nice quiet living together, raising the kid, cooking the meals, watching favorite TV shows, getting up and going to work, coming home: Sallie knew what to expect, and she liked it that way.  She never wanted it to be any other way, ever again.