Women of San Francisco, with my inaugural edition of Hottie Alert I would like to showcase two of the city’s sweetest pieces of eye candy. Scanning SF for gorgeous, hopefully not gay guys is a chore, but I will take on the responsibility if I must. Future alerts will be available as soon as more sightings occur. I could easily harbor this precious information but I’m not greedy like that.
Hottie A
Who: A dark-haired, fair-skinned, dewy-eyed, European barista
Where: Café Trieste in North Beach
When: Sighted approximately three months ago, on a chilly Wednesday afternoon
How: The door adjacent to the café was ajar. He was sitting on the steps with his little apron on. We see each other. I walk into the café, he walks into the café. He readies himself behind the counter. I stand in line and the fat barista next to him takes my order for a latte.
Why he’s a Hottie: He says to the women behind me, “I’m sorry ma’am, we don’t accept credit cards.” Mundane words to most, but when he said it, with a sexy Euro accent, it was the hottest phrase I’ve ever heard. I have not been back there since (yes, the café is a five-minute walk from me so I can revisit him anytime, but isn‘t anticipation more alluring?).
Comparable to: The tiramisu at Panta Rei. The first time I had it was about a year ago and ever since then I had been dreaming and raving about it. I finally had my second taste last week (yes, the restaurant is a five-minute walk from me so I could have had it much earlier) and it was just as great, if not better, than the first time around.
Hottie B
Who: A tall, skinny (but not too skinny), floppy-haired (but not too floppy), stagehand indie boy
Where: The Great American Music Hall
When: Sighted last night, on stage, before the Shout Out Louds’ concert
How: The Rosebuds from North Carolina depart to make way for the main act and out comes a green-shirted god. With steady and strong hands he fine tunes the guitars, gracefully unwinds and walks over wires and essentially turns chaos into calm.
Why he’s a Hottie: He may not have been the lead singer, or even part of the band, but Hottie B sure knows how to fill in the gap between performances by providing the ladies with a mighty fine piece of as* (that’s so classy of me to not spell ass out). The Shout Out who’s? I would have been quite pleased to watch him unravel wires all night long.
Comparable to: A great song that you wish would never end. As soon as the last notes start to evaporate you push the repeat button so there is a sense of continuity, however forced it may be.
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2 comments:
That, is some of the most perfect blog entries I've ever read . LOVELY . And WHAT about hottie C workin the host spot at Boogaloos on the weekends ? Yep. Or, Hottie D on the register at the Fisherman's Wharf Trader Joe's ? Dreamy has the Win from Arcade Fire action goin on right there.
I've been to Boogaloos on the weekends recently but have only been hosted by a female so far. I will have to drop by my neighborhood Trader Joe's and pick up some chocolate-covered almonds and a glimpse of Dreamy. Thanks for the info. Much appreciated.
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