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Posts Tagged ‘Safeway’


It may no longer be the political and social heartbeat of the LGBT community in San Francisco (so many have moved out to adjoining neighbourhoods), but the Castro still displays its roots proudly.

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Following lunch at the Church Street Café, we sauntered up Market to the intersection with 17th and Castro before turning into Castro Street itself. The number and size of rainbow flags seem to proliferate with every visit. And the full to bursting hanging baskets complemented them perfectly against a soft sky.

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Few tourists intruded on what was a very businesslike atmosphere.

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But humour cohabits with commerce in the upscale  food, gift and clothing stores  that adorn the  main drag  (no pun intended) and adjoining streets.

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It might not flaunt its roots nowadays quite as obviously as arguably Haight Street does, but you might still think twice about subjecting your maternal grandmother from Kansas  to the sights in some of the window displays.

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The most striking building on the street remains the glorious Castro Theatre, which I’m assured by locals is even more spectacular inside. Well, finally, we will get the chance for ourselves to test that opinion by attending the double bill of  Romeo and Juliet (the Leonardo di Caprio version) and Strictly Ballroom on Saturday (escaping the predicted heatwave for a few hours).

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It is run a close second by the beautiful frontage of the Fork Café a few days away from the movie theatre.

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Setting off back down Market Street you might almost miss the brightly coloured mural commemorating those who have died of AIDS since the disease first began to decimate lives in the early eighties. The question in the segment of the mural highlighted above remains as poignant and pertinent today.

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Exiting Castro Street at its western end onto Market Street, one cannot fail to be impressed by what I believe to be the largest rainbow flag on the planet, flying over the plaza that commemorates the legacy of the great Harvey Milk, the first openly gay person elected to public office in the country. His influence continues to blaze where people are discriminated on the grounds of whom they fall in love with.

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Many readers will be familiar with George Bernard Shaw’s quip that “we really have everything in common with America nowadays except, of course, language”. And we can all cite examples of words and expressions that mean different things to, say, a New Yorker and  a resident of Birmingham (that is the city in England, not Alabama).

The problem is compounded by the ugly, boorish impact of business speak (mostly the fault of Americans but, going forward, I will not belabour the point).

A tannoy message this afternoon in the Church and Market branch of Safeway in San Francisco trumped them all:

Guest Attention in the Liquor Display Case

Immediately this raised a number of questions in my mind.

For starters, when did we start calling customers buying their groceries “guests”, unless the poor subject of the announcement was one of the gentlemen of the street that haunt the vicinity, who saw the premises, specifically the “liquor display case”, as a potential resting place for the night – a case of “killing two birds with one stone” if ever I heard one?

And I know everything in America is meant to be bigger, but how large must this “case” be if a “guest” has, deliberately or otherwise, found themselves inhabiting it, unless they have ejected its intended contents first? And that’s not going to happen is it?  

But what if the individual is an unsuspecting shopper of smaller than average stature who has inadvertently got trapped in the case whilst trying to reach the Southern Comfort bottle on the top shelf? Will this not render Safeway liable for huge compensation payouts under equality legislation?

And come to think of it – how many of those words that I have used above, for example “quip”, “tannoy” and “trumped”, would be readily understood by my American friends?

Possibly all.

Or perhaps none.

I just don’t know – unless they tell me of course.

We both trot out our own everyday expressions in conversation with each other without a thought (and why should we?) of whether we are going to be understood. This is more of an issue for my compatriots because we naturally assume that residents of other nations should be conversant with our god-given language.

But in the final analysis I just hope that that poor “guest” – bum, dwarf or whatever he or she might be – has been rescued by now. If not, they’re likely to be approaching severe frostbite.

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