One perfect moment in San Francisco

It’s 8:00 pm, and brown rice takes 45 minutes to cook. I’ll be eating
dinner at 9 p.m., which has got to be unhealthy for my delicate gut. I
will stop for nothing and no one, I vow, as I swing my leg over my
bike.

One pedal stroke takes me past five cars, and another one would take
me past this yelling kid handing out pamphlets. I feel sorry for him,
though. I will stop for nothing and no one, but I don’t mind squeezing
the brakes, coasting close to him, and opening my mouth v-e-e-e-r-y
wide. Smart kid, he gets the hint. “Come watch Peter Pan!” he calls,
as I streak away, unable to respond, but grinning as best I can.