We passed over the Bay Bridge into San Francisco, and it was sunny and windy.
ever knew the Bay was so blue and the bridge that pretty. The skyline of the city it really spectacular. It seems like I'm noticing things more than I did before. I wonder if that's because I'm so happy, so in love, and with John. I'm pretty sure it is
John obviously knew the city and pointed out things on the way to wherever it was we were going. I loved the smell of coffee as we passed by the Folger's place.
Coffee sure smells a lot better than it tastes. Maybe I'll like it when I'm older.
We passed all sorts of interesting and historical places, and John seemed to know all about them. We got off the freeway at Van Ness, and John told me what all the big old granite buildings were: City Hall, Federal Building, War Memorial Opera House, etc. Then we turned off onto Lombard Street, and after a couple of blocks it turned into a one-way street made of bricks, was narrow and steeply downhill, and had more turns than I had ever seen! John said the street was very famous and he thought I'd like it. I liked it so much that I had him go around the block so we could go down it again.
He sure knows a lot of neat places to go and things to do. I know he's trying to entertain me, but he seems to enjoy these things, too. I'd really like to be entertained with a nice kiss. I'm overdue.
We drove up some really steep hills to the top of what John called Nob Hill. There were some fancy looking hotels and a big old church called Grace Cathedral. I noticed the Mark Hopkins Hotel (I'd heard of that), and we pulled in to the Fairmont Hotel. There were a bunch of limos and other fancy cars parked at the entrance, and our Lexus seemed kind of puny in comparison.
We stopped under the canopy with a red carpet, and there was a very large black man dressed up like an important military officer in an old movie standing there. He was really huge, and he had on a hat that made him seem even taller. He had a big smile and opened my door for me. He said to John, 'Good morning, Doctor. Nice to see you again. Good morning, Miss.'
I never heard anyone call John 'Doctor' before. I guess this place is too classy for him to call me 'Honey' like everybody else does
. John said, 'Hello, Granger, our luggage is in the trunk,' and tossed him the keys to the car. Mr Granger ushered us into the place like we were visiting royalty.
The lobby of the Fairmont was about twice the size of my school gymnasium and definitely the most elegant place I'd ever seen. Groupings of easy chairs and couches all over, a big fountain, beautiful potted plants, tables that looked like antiques, and all the men wearing suits and the women in dressy clothes. Some of the women even wore furs. I guessed they hadn't heard that furs weren't politically correct.
There's no way I'd wear some poor dead animal.
Even though there were lots of people sitting, walking, and talking the whole place was very quiet. I guessed the furnishings and thick carpeting had something to do with that.
John led me to a nice easy chair and told me to wait there while he registered at the desk. I told him I really didn't think I belonged in a place like that. He laughed and said, 'Diane, you're the best looking woman in the place, and I'm the envy of every man because of it. This is our fairy tale, remember? We deserve the best, we can afford the best, and this is it. The trick to a place like this is to act like you own the joint. I'll be back in five minutes. Don't wander off, and don't forget that I love you.' He kissed me on the cheek and walked over to the registration desk just like he owned the joint. I amused myself by watching the elegantly dressed people, and trying to act like I owned the joint. That was hard to do.
I bet none of these women get made love to as much as I do.
Outside, I could see Mr. Granger supervising while a little guy in a uniform with a really dumb hat took our luggage out of the trunk and put it on a kind of platform on wheels. Another guy got into the Lexus and drove off with a screech of the tires. The little guy with the dumb hat wheeled the luggage in, and I wasn't sure what to do. I walked over and told him those things were ours, and he asked if 'the gentleman' was here. I told him that he was, and we waited until John finished registering and came over. I started to pick up one of the suitcases, but John told me to let the bellman take care of it.
'Bellman' I guess that's what this guy is called. I'll bet he hates to put on that dumb uniform, expecially the hat. It's almost as bad as what I have to wear to school. At least I don't have to wear a stupid hat. I guess he's going to bring the suitcases on that cart thing.
