Not once during her entire 12 day visit to San Francisco did Madame Merle get to see The Little Chinese Man in the flesh, though she was indeed accosted by many unsavory people in various locales around the City. Where was he? Lurking nearby it seems, because a mere three hours after her plane departed to NYC there he was, across the street from me, on his way down the block toward my apartment. I was too deep in my own thoughts about how much I enjoyed having Madame Merle here to notice him coming toward me until it was too late to capture his frightening image. I was about to go on the wagon last night but after this startling visitation, the only thing that could calm my nerves was a double bourbon and some cheetos.
Once again, here he is in all his glory, shot from behind as he crosses O'Farrell at Hyde at 5:55 on 08/09/10, heading east in his nice tight pants with the bikini brief lines well-visible and newish looking neat liitle khaki jacket. How terrifying is this?