I am an apostolic pentecostal, having graduated from Christian Life College of Stockton, California and studied at Western Seminary of San Jose, California. My desire is to move to the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood of San Francisco and minister to thehomeless youth there. ----- Sometimes I think my ideal woman is a 300-pound gospel singer from New Orleans who will chase my blues away with her stirring renditions of Mahalia Jackson songs. She will endure me playing my guitar and harmonica while I sing to her, "I'm built for comfort, baby / I ain't built for speed. " Her sweet melodies will soothe me to sleep every night, and her bedrock faith in God will tame my mischief. In the morning she will bring me my coffee: strong and black. ----- But other times I think I'd fall for a petite nymph with long, flowing hair twirling about in a field on a spring evening. The wildflowers and radiant sunset cannot compare to the beauty of her dance as she lights upon the prairie with such grace, her sundress twirling with the freedom of a thousand populist revolutions. She makes me wish I. . 'd never left art school, as if I could ever do her justice on a canvas. Of course, we retire to our picnic blanket to watch the evening's colors, and I surprise her with a teacup and saucer filled with her favorite beverage: milky white coffee with lots of sugar. . . and a touch of spice. ----- In the faded recesses of my mind is a lithe, catlike form that prowls the rooftops of the city. No one has filmed her and escaped alive. She smells like gunpowder and leather, and the lowlives of the back alleys only dare whisper her name in fear. Some call her a vigilante, an avenger of the powerless and oppressed, though others consider her a violent menace and a blight upon society. I know that the only possible way to get her attention is to buy her a double-shot espresso and hope that she invites me to join her crusade to fight crime.