I am in my car with friends in the Castro, waving to the tiny girl on the corner. Her fathers are holding her hands as they wait to cross the street. By the time they notice me, my waving has grown more desperate, and they exchange an uneasy glance. They look away, across the avenue, and finally see what my friends and I have already seen — a man, stark naked at noon on a Sunday, waiting to cross in the opposite direction.
The fathers squeeze the little girl’s hands and point at me, smiling. “HI!” I say. “Hi, ka-toots!” She waves back at me, puzzled, and looks up at her dads. All of us together are grinning urgently. The family crosses, and the naked man passes them while we continue to exchange imperative waves. “Hello! Hello! Hello! ”
When they’ve passed our car, the debate begins.
-What the hell is up, Naked Guy?
-Is this a thing? Convention? Street Fair?
-I don’t think so.
-I think that’s crazy right there.
-A dare maybe?
-If it were a dare, wouldn’t he at least be wearing shoes?
-Yep, that’s stark-naked crazy.
Then, Naked Guy crosses again, and we see him approach Naked Guy #2.
-Ah! There’s two of them.
-That’s a thing.
-We officially live in a city where one naked guy makes us more nervous than two.