Today at Dolores there was a really shouty fellow. I thought at first he was freaking out at the other guy, but it turns out he was just freaking out at himself. I guess that's a little better, but come on. I mean, everyone has their frustration moves, but they don't have to be quite so mean and violent. He would roar and swear. It was awkward.
My tennis pal didn't care, much. Lucky! I was constantly terrified of incurring this fellow's wrath. Actually, though, his outrage contrasted heavily with his decent manners. He's just wayyyy serious about tennis. He kinda looked us up and down when we came onto the courts. I'm serious about tennis, too, but what that means is that we're gonna start working on serves next week. Hahaha. This guy was way better than that.
After playing for nearly two hours (in the HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOTNESS of this bizarre San Francisco heat wave), we did what anyone at Dolores Park should've done: eaten ice cream at Bi-Rite.
I always meant to blog about how much I love Bi-Rite, and why I liked them better than Mitchell's (where I went for the first time last weekend), but I'm not gonna do it now. Suffice it to say, a kid's scoop of toasted coconut (or ANY FLAVOR) is the perfect way to end...anything.