december 2006: loft

last night we perched in a billboard on top of a building in san francisco, the tallest in its area. there was a ladder that led out of the music into the cold wet dark of a roof overlooking 880. you could see the iconic coca-cola sign nearby, down the freeway. the vinyl of the sign's face was clammy and the ladders of the gangways inside it were slippery and cold in the rainy wind. one side advertised la raza, the other was a stem glass of stella artois, at least four or five times my height. the sign was filled with people in knee-high goth boots and torn jeans and long wool coats and trucker hats in the mist with scottish accents sipping shitty long islands that tasted like rum, discussing how the only people who'd 'ever see this' are the taggers who'd already decorated the rooftops of the buildings all around.

i had no camera.