Random sample of the awesome craziness loose in San Francisco: Today, in front of my house, there was a man sprawled out, completely asleep on a sunny day at 1 in the afternoon, on the hood of a teal Acura Legend (circa 1995). His feet were not on the hood with him, no, his feet rested on the seat of an upright beat-up 10-speed bicycle on the sidewalk (I don't know how he kept it upright either). And resting on his stomach was an open plastic container, you know, the kind they give you to take your salad home in, and it was full of chocolate-chip cookies.
And my first thought? It wasn't "Oooh, is that guy on drugs?" or "What a weirdo." No, this is San Francisco, and really, the whole thing wasn't as weird as seeing the woman who was peeing against a wall like a dog on Market St. five minutes before this. My first thought was more like "I wonder if he'll give me one of his chocolate chip cookies."
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