Thank-you, Beyonce

Lee DeCovnick
Last night I watched the San Francisco Giants game at ATT Park, where they lost to their cross-bay rivals the Oakland Athletics, 9-6. A slow game, almost four hours long, led to a midnight wait for the last couple of BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) trains to the East Bay suburbs.

Upstairs, in the ticketing area of this downtown BART station, there were three SFPD patrolmen and two BART cops enjoying a nice chat together. After riding down the long escalator to the train platform, I understood why the cops were upstairs.  The panhandlers, pickpockets, scam artists, and a few druggies were having a good time working the upscale late night stragglers. As I found an unoccupied wall to stand in front of, so I didn't have to watch my back, two young hookers came up to me.

"Could we stand next to you until the Concord train arrives? This is a pretty scary place."

"You sort of look like a real caring Dad type, and we're hoping you could just, um, be sure we get to the Orinda Station without any hassle?"

Orinda is a very upscale suburb, like Ridgewood, New Jersey or Kenilworth, Illinois. Most houses are in the multi-million dollar range.

I looked closer and realized both girls were no more than sixteen years old, very young, innocent, and frightened.  They wore heavy dark eyeliner, ruby lipstick and lots of faux jewelry. Moreover, these girls wore skin tight, shiny black tights that left nothing to the imagination, since they wore no pants, shorts or skirt over the tights.  Rounding out the hooker look were calf length black leather boots, bright reveling blouses, lacy push up bras and beaded jackets.

"Of course, stay close and don't speak to anyone."  I had an extra sweatshirt and suggested to one of the girls that she tie it around her waist, and I took off my own Giants jacket and had the other girl do the same.

Thirteen minutes later, the train arrived and we boarded.

After a few minutes, I asked if they had a ride from the Orinda BART station to their homes.

"Oh yea, my Mom is going to pick us up after I call her, a couple of stops from Orinda."

"You girls look like your still in high school...."

"We're both sophomores."

I bit my lip and asked, "Do you dress up like this and go to San Francisco often?"

"Only three or four times so far. Our folks think it will broaden our life experiences.'

I slowly counted to twenty and asked one of the girls if her father thought this was a good idea.

"Her Dad thinks it's a teenage thing, and my Dad doesn't want to argue with my Mom. Her Dad also gave us two hundred dollars for dinner and movie tonight."

"Um.. did your Dad see how you were dressed before you left?"

"Yea, he wasn't real happy, but Mom told him that Beyonce dresses this way on the TV commercials, so it was alright for us to go out."

A few minutes later were got to the Orinda BART station, I got my sweatshirt and jacket back, and the girls thanked me, disappearing out the train door into the night.

Last night I watched the San Francisco Giants game at ATT Park, where they lost to their cross-bay rivals the Oakland Athletics, 9-6. A slow game, almost four hours long, led to a midnight wait for the last couple of BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) trains to the East Bay suburbs.

Upstairs, in the ticketing area of this downtown BART station, there were three SFPD patrolmen and two BART cops enjoying a nice chat together. After riding down the long escalator to the train platform, I understood why the cops were upstairs.  The panhandlers, pickpockets, scam artists, and a few druggies were having a good time working the upscale late night stragglers. As I found an unoccupied wall to stand in front of, so I didn't have to watch my back, two young hookers came up to me.

"Could we stand next to you until the Concord train arrives? This is a pretty scary place."

"You sort of look like a real caring Dad type, and we're hoping you could just, um, be sure we get to the Orinda Station without any hassle?"

Orinda is a very upscale suburb, like Ridgewood, New Jersey or Kenilworth, Illinois. Most houses are in the multi-million dollar range.

I looked closer and realized both girls were no more than sixteen years old, very young, innocent, and frightened.  They wore heavy dark eyeliner, ruby lipstick and lots of faux jewelry. Moreover, these girls wore skin tight, shiny black tights that left nothing to the imagination, since they wore no pants, shorts or skirt over the tights.  Rounding out the hooker look were calf length black leather boots, bright reveling blouses, lacy push up bras and beaded jackets.

"Of course, stay close and don't speak to anyone."  I had an extra sweatshirt and suggested to one of the girls that she tie it around her waist, and I took off my own Giants jacket and had the other girl do the same.

Thirteen minutes later, the train arrived and we boarded.

After a few minutes, I asked if they had a ride from the Orinda BART station to their homes.

"Oh yea, my Mom is going to pick us up after I call her, a couple of stops from Orinda."

"You girls look like your still in high school...."

"We're both sophomores."

I bit my lip and asked, "Do you dress up like this and go to San Francisco often?"

"Only three or four times so far. Our folks think it will broaden our life experiences.'

I slowly counted to twenty and asked one of the girls if her father thought this was a good idea.

"Her Dad thinks it's a teenage thing, and my Dad doesn't want to argue with my Mom. Her Dad also gave us two hundred dollars for dinner and movie tonight."

"Um.. did your Dad see how you were dressed before you left?"

"Yea, he wasn't real happy, but Mom told him that Beyonce dresses this way on the TV commercials, so it was alright for us to go out."

A few minutes later were got to the Orinda BART station, I got my sweatshirt and jacket back, and the girls thanked me, disappearing out the train door into the night.