A Most Unusual Day

I usually go to different neighborhoods in San Francisco on weekends to try and keep it fresh, and lately to get the hell outta dodge (my immediate downtown zombie ghost land). Hadn't taken a decent pic in a while, so this Saturday I decided to revisit a somewhat industrial section of town that has always been rather desolate, it definitely has a different feel than the rest of the town architecturally, and different is what I wanted... but I wasn't welcoming the fact that I'd really stand out walking about and be easy prey for any gang of thieves (be they ambulatory or vehicular) looking for a quick camera heist these days. I managed a sole image of a lost soul, and shortly thereafter, decided discretion the better part of valor before deciding once again to... get the hell outta dodge. 

Photo: © Stan Banos

But I digress... 

Because the most unusual part of the day occurred quite some time before I had even left home. Around eleven that morning, I heard a knock on my door, looked through the peephole to spot two uniforms- WTF? Have you seen your neighbor lately? Whoa! That question usually ends one way. "No, no I haven't- but I only see him like once a month, if that." A gentleman in his seventies who walks with a cane and I always made a point to say hello to. OK, thanks. An hour passes and I hear a bevy of voices outside my door followed by the sounds of things being moved about next door. I don't have to ask what's going on. An hour later I'm headed out and the stench fills my nostrils immediately upon opening the door, just before seeing the latex gloves strewn about the hallway. 

It had to have been a few weeks before anyone noticed. I sure hadn't, and I was right next door- eating and sleeping probably no more than ten feet from a dead guy (yeah, our units are that small); didn't know anything, didn't smell anything... Did just make out the radio or TV late into the night- just thought it a lonely old man accompanying himself to sleep. 

There's a health hazard seal on his door now, and I sincerely hope they clean the place out properly tomorrow ASAP! A bottle of Lysol can only do so much, and I'm fortunate, indeed, that none of it permeates my apt- except for a certain amount of nagging guilt. Should've bothered to get to know him better, asked if he needed help etc, etc- shoulda, woulda, coulda... 

I'm betting there'll probably be a next time to make amends somewhere down the line; and then one day, no doubt, my turn to stink up the hallway good...