To add to the fabulousity of last Tuesday, I had a run in the White Whale (see earlier blog entry). Got onto the 1 California on the way to see a doctor and as I stepped up and into the aisle, I saw her staring at me from the back of the bus. Caught like the proverbial deer-in-the-headlights, I stopped right where I was and sat down at the first seat I could find. Didn't have the balls to go where I usually go, the back of the bus.

Who is the White Whale? The White Whale is basically your arch-enemy, your nemesis, your foe. They're the one who you've vowed that when they die, you'll dance on they'll grave. Everyone has one. They're the person who whenever you bump into them, you'll either glare at each other or go way out of the way to pretend you don't see each other. You'll see them in a bar and you'll ignore each other. Or you run into them at a BART stop and once you see each other, you make damn sure that you go to completely different sides of the station.

And, by the way, it's SO not my doing.

See, San Francisco is a pretty small town, the kind of town where you always run into people, no matter how much you might not want to run into them. This is especially true if you live here long enough, like I have, and if you spend a majority of that time single. No matter how nice of a person you are and how hard you try not to acquire an enemy, you can bet your bottom dollar that you'll still have at least one or two. Some people even have more than one (I'm pretty sure my White Whale does). And it doesn't necessarily have to be someone of the opposite sex (or shall I say, the sex of which you are attracted to), but it's someone you hate beyond all reason, even if the thing happened years ago. And the feeling is usually mutual.

And I saw mine on Tuesday, at one of the worst possible moments. There I was, all pissy and angry because of the whole job/don't play video games debacle and as I hop on the bus I see her, the White Whale. What a perfect topper to it all, seeing the last person in the world you want to see on a day like that.

It's actually the second time I've run into her over the past couple of weeks. I usually run into her about four or five times a year, but I seem to be on a roll lately. Again, something that happens when you live in this city for a long time, frequent the same places and live a couple of blocks away from each other (or at least did cause I think she's moved somewhere else).

I'm so good at noticing her even that I can even spot her blocks away, usually by her hunched over walk and big blonde hair. Something that helps because I know when to get out of the way. Whether she does the same stuff with me, I don't know for sure, but I'm guessing it is because it's not like she's acknowledged my existence the past six years or so. She's done a pretty good job of running to the other side of the street too. The last time I saw her, though, I walked right past her, partly to make sure it was her, but partly to make sure she knew I was still here. Marking my territory, like. Letting her know I'm still here

I had heard once that she had moved to New York after almost losing her job, but I guess she's back. Lucky me. And yeah, It's definitely one of the sucky things about living in a city like SF, knowing that at any moment, the White Whale can be blowin on by.