Showing posts with label On the street. Show all posts
Showing posts with label On the street. Show all posts
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Halloweenie
I realized, as I sat at an outdoor cafe with my mother yesterday, that I couldn't say- not with 100% confidence, anyway- who was in costume and who wasn't.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Um, Sorry?
The street where Alex and I live is a little one-way residential jobber, running from mildly ghetto main thoroughfare to another mildly ghetto main thoroughfare. It's a quiet little island of divided-up run-down Victorians amidst a sea of public housing, bike shops, and Filipino markets. At least, this is what I tell myself.
And around 3 o'clock this morning, this was confirmed by a series of crashes, curses, and then a very loud, very aggrieved voice proclaiming "It's taking too damn long to get some crack around here!"
And around 3 o'clock this morning, this was confirmed by a series of crashes, curses, and then a very loud, very aggrieved voice proclaiming "It's taking too damn long to get some crack around here!"
Friday, April 27, 2007
Chocolate Vs. Hepatitis, Round 1
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."
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."
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Maybe This Is What They Used The Cardboard For
Best hobo signs of the week:
"Please donate to the United Negro Pizza Fund."
"My wife has been kidnapped, need 87 more cents for the ransom."
"You're pretty."
"I'm really a P.h.d in physicians."
"If you give me money, I'll stop playing the guitar."
"What would Angelina Jolie do?"
"Why lie, I need some crack."
"Wouldn't YOU like a beer and a sandwich right now?"
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