San Francisco officials are courteous but firm. From time to time their reasonableness
should be given full scope. Recently I dressed up as an old man - the sort of
civic old gentleman who spends his days and nights snoozing in the
gardens next to City Hall. To complete the guise I
hired a guide dog,
roughened it up a bit, roughened myself up a bit, and turned up at
the bank on Battery Street which is the proud holder of this
brilliant sign:
GUARD: I'm sorry sir, you can't bring the animal in here.
OLD MAN: I'm blind. This is my guide dog.
GUARD: Okay, come through - stop! - just hold it right there, mister. What are you trying to pull here? Can't you read the sign? "Seeing eye dogs only."
OLD MAN: I'm sorry, I missed the sign. But my dog has eyes.
GUARD: Yeah but they sure aren't seeing eyes.
OLD MAN: How do you know?
GUARD: (ironically) Sir, the eyes of your dog are covered in bandages.
OLD MAN: The sun is very bright, and he sometimes likes me to cover up his eyes, but those are definitely seeing eyes.
GUARD: Man, this kind of thing is out of my league. I'm going to have to call management here.
(Short wait. A small crowd has collected. Manager in window. Whispering.)
MANAGER: (cheerfully) We appear to have a case of the blind leading the blind. (Angry snort from the crowd.)
OLD MAN: The dog is fine. And I am not a "fucking nutcase" as you whispered.
(uneasy pause)
MANAGER: (thin smile) So your dog can see, well. Ok, let's test it. Bill, the bandages. I have a medallion...
OLD MAN: (anxious gesture) No wait, please sir, don't touch the bandages, it's true, the dog is blind. But since I went down in Korea he's been my only friend in a hard world. When the poor mutt went blind I couldn't bear to part with him.
MANAGER: Well... (bewildered) I don't know, well.
GUARD: (suddenly loses his temper and breaks in) What do you want to do in the bank anyway, darn it you're blind, what are you going to do?
(Hisses from the crowd)
OLD MAN: I need to see my niece about something.
GUARD: You need to see your niece? (More hisses.)
OLD MAN: Please. She's a cashier.
MANAGER: Well I know, we'll pass on a message?
OLD MAN: That would be just fine.
GUARD: (whips out a notepad angrily) : Okay what's the message?
(Here the "old man" makes a rapid series of gestures in sign language.)