Tales of the City 01 - Tales of the City

the eye of the storm, bumping with a black man in Lurex knickers and glitter wedgies.
    “What’s up?” asked the stewardess, boogying to the sidelines.
    “I’m beat. Could I have the keys to the apartment?”
    “You O.K., hon?”
    “Fine. Just tired.”
    “Hot date?”
    “No, just … could I have the keys, Connie?”
    “Here’s an extra set. Sweet dreams.”
    Boarding the 41 Union bus, Mary Ann realized suddenly why Connie kept an extra set of keys in her purse.
    Mary Ann watched Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman, then turned off the television and fell asleep.
    It was after 2 A.M . when Connie got home.
    She wasn’t alone.
    Mary Ann rolled over on the sofa and buried her head under the covers, pretending to be asleep. Connie and her guest tiptoed noisily into the bedroom.
    The man’s voice was fuzzy with whiskey, but Mary Ann knew immediately who he was.
    He was asking for lemon candles.

Her New Home
    M ARY ANN CREPT OUT OF THE APARTMENT JUST before dawn. The prospect of sharing Trix for three at breakfast was more than she could take.
    She wandered the streets of the Marina in search of For Rent signs, then ate a mammoth breakfast at the International House of Pancakes.
    At nine o’clock she was the first customer of the day at a rental agency on Lombard Street.
    She wanted a View, a Deck and a Fireplace for under $175.
    “Jees,” said the rental lady. “Awful picky for a girl without a job.” She offered Mary Ann “a nice Lower Pacific Heights studio with AEK, wall-to-wall carpeting and a partial view of Fillmore Auditorium.” Mary Ann said no.
    She ended up with three possibles.
    The first one had an uptight landlady who asked if Mary Ann “took marijuana.”
    The second was a pink stucco fortress on Upper Market with gold glitter in the ceiling plaster.
    The last was on Russian Hill. Mary Ann arrived there at four-thirty.
    The house was on Barbary Lane, a narrow, wooded walkway off Leavenworth between Union and Filbert. It was a well-weathered, three-story structure made of brown shingles. It made Mary Ann think of an old bear with bits of foliage caught in its fur. She liked it instantly.
    The landlady was a fiftyish woman in a plum-colored kimono.
    “I’m Mrs. Madrigal,” she said cheerfully. “As in medieval.”
    Mary Ann smiled. “You can’t feel as ancient as I do. I’ve been apartment-hunting all day.”
    “Well, take your time. There’s a partial view, if you count that little patch of bay peeping through the trees. Utilities included, of course. Small house. Nice people. You get here this week?”
    “That obvious, huh?”
    The landlady nodded. “The look’s a dead giveaway. You just can’t wait to bite into that lotus.”
    “What? I’m sorry….”
    “Tennyson. You know: ‘Eating the lotus day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray; To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of’ … something, something…. You get the point.”
    “Does the … furniture go with it?”
    “Don’t change the subject while I’m quoting Tennyson.”
    Mary Ann was shaken until she noticed that the landlady was smiling. “You’ll get used to my babbling,” said Mrs. Madrigal. “All the others have.” She walked to the window, where the wind made her kimono flutter like brilliant plumage. “The furniture is included. What do you say, dear?”
    Mary Ann said yes.
    “Good. You’re one of us, then. Welcome to 28 Barbary Lane.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Yes, you should.” Mrs. Madrigal smiled. There was something a little careworn about her face, but she was really quite lovely, Mary Ann decided. “Do you have any objection to pets?” asked the new tenant.
    “Dear … I have no objection to anything.”
    Elated, Mary Ann walked to the corner of Hyde and Union and phoned Connie from the Searchlight Market. “Hi. Guess what?”
    “You got kidnaped?”
    “Oh … Connie, I’m sorry. I’ve been looking for a place….”
    “I was freaked.”
    “I’m really sorry. I … Connie, I’ve found this darling place on Russian Hill on the third floor of the funkiest old building … and I can move in tomorrow.”
    “Oh … that was quick.”
    “It’s so neat! I can’t wait for you to see it.”
    “Sounds nice. Look, Mary Ann … like, if there’s any problem with money or anything, you can stay with me until …”
    “I’ve got some saved. Thanks, though. You’ve been wonderful.”
    “No sweat. Hey … what’s on