Washington goes to San Francisco

This is awkward.  I'm not in my usual seat.  Or even close to my usual seat.  For some reason the train is especially crowded this morning.  I'm now on the East side facing North which is the total opposite of how it should be.  My elbow keeps hitting the side of the car.  I feel like I need to iron something.

Let me see what Washington Orville Hampton has to say about the need for same.

June 11, 2006 -- San Francisco, CA

I've had about enough of SF for this trip.  I remember when this was a respectable town.  This afternoon, however, was horrible.  I was dropped very unceremoniously at the front door of the wrong hotel.  Inside I discovered that the desk manager had been murdered and instead of getting a hotel room, I got an interview room.  Apparently people of diminutive stature are considered prime suspects when someone twice their height has an ice pick through the ear.

I complained, of course, about the ridiculousness of the whole thing but Detective Randy suggested that was my alibi.  I asked what his alibi was and he said he didn't have one.  That really threw him off and a Captain by the name of Stottlemeyer came in from the next room and took him out.

Then I got to meet a charming young woman, Natalie, and her boss, Mr. "oh-my-goodness-can-anyone-really-be-so-annoying?"  She called him Mr. Monk.  He spent the next half hour interviewing me.  Which was to say that he puttered around the room getting everything situated just-so before sitting down across from me.  Then he leaped back up and wiped everything down with a tissue.  It was mesmerizing in the same way as watching snails melt when you put salt on them.

Then Mr. Monk, without asking a single question, said, "He's not the guy."  The Captain didn't like that answer and argued.  Mr. Monk said, "He's not the guy.  Look at his bags.  He wasn't even supposed to be at that hotel."  The Captain said, "Right, he's told us it was a mistake."  Mr. Monk smiled and said, "It wasn't a mistake, Captain."  I, of course, was furious.  It was absolutely a mistake.  Coming to San Francisco was a mistake.  Miss Natalie said, "Mr. Monk, get to the point."

Mr. Monk tried to straighten my bow tie and I'm embarrassed to say that I tried to bite him.  I'd have punched him if I was handcuffed to the table.  He backed off at once and said, "Mr. Hampton didn't plan to go to the hotel, but his taxi driver took him there on purpose."

The Captain clapped his hands.  "Of course.  It was a set up."  The Captain turned back to me and said, "What can you tell us about the driver?"  I shook my hands to remind them I was cuffed.  Then I coughed to remind them I was thirsty.  Then I said, "Boy am I hungry" so they'd know I was hungry.  Then I told them all about my wild ride in the cab and the stories that the driver, Jame Gumb, had told me on the way.