I can’t tell you how many times I’ve walked past this door without ever noticing it. Or even the striped wall really. Kind of like how I managed to jog past Pot and Pantry for two years before realizing it was there.
This is part of the joy of living in SF. We are surrounded in wackadoodle. Right before I took this photo, a guy — looking normal, which is relevant to what I’m about to tell you — picked up a random pair of pants out of a deep, inky puddle without breaking his stride. Bend, snatch, walk, trail of dripping pant water behind him. Quite impressive and totally inexplicable.
How am I supposed to notice every doorway when stuff like that is going on?
