There are far too many newcomers in San Francisco from the primitive parts of this great country. If they were happy to live in grotty little garrets it wouldn't be a problem. But they walk among us, outside the Tenderloin.
In consequence, rents are going up, Starbucks franchises are everywhere, and our quality of life is rapidly going down.
There are sushi restaurants here!
For white folks!
All that, AND we are being diluted. It's time for San Franciscans to step up to the pitch, and fill in the slack.
It could heal on its own.
Better that we help it.
STANDARD OPERATIONAL SCHIZOPHRENIA
Here are complete instructions:
1) Real San Franciscans carry their portfolio with them at all times. At the slightest excuse, we pull out sheet after sheet of tattoo designs and gothic sex-manga. Then launch into long explanations of what it all means.
2) Wear army fatigues; nothing says creative individual as well as army fatigues. And a realistic twitch or nervous tic. You've suffered, now it's someone else's turn.
3) Speak to total strangers about what the emergency room didn't do for you lately. In splendid detail.
4) Inform people about the yoga instructor you discovered who also does high colonics.
5) Suddenly scream that you want the other doctor back immediately.
6) Ask: "Who came first? The walrus, or the eggman?"
7) Wine is the blood of the earth mother.
8) Everything must be green.
9) Be meaningful.
10) Stare.
The most important thing is that you must NEVER treat strangers as equals.
Either they're your support group, OR they need therapy more than you do. Let them know where and how to get it, along with meaning-filled tattoos, wine, yoga instruction, and high colonics. Tell them about veganism and native tribes. Guess their sign, repeatedly.
Practice telepathy on them.
Or clairvoyance.
Teleport!
Above all, avoid eye-contact, in such a way as to make sure that not only they know you're doing that, but so does everyone else on the bus. Keeping the crazy people at arms length is more than a full-time job, it's theatrical, and all the world is a stage.
If enough people do this, e-yuppies will go back where they came from.
Never let them know about it, though. It is our secret.
Who told you? Was it a man in a suit?
He's one of "them".
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All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
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