As Sunday outfits go, it made a statement. Raincoat. Thigh-highs. Speedo. Net tank top and a dark-side of the moon tee-shirt. No idea what the statement was, but a good guess would be "hi, I'm batshit, ya wanna partay?"
Still not as quite as bold as the gentleman who comes in regularly, but this time called instead to blame the government for tracking him through his cell-phone. Who, because of our patience and tolerant "uh-huh"ing, now thinks that we are in cahoots with the dark state.
That was a conversation I wish to forget.
One the way back from Marin several passengers on the bus demonstrated what an entitled part of the universe the county to the north of SF is.
I am really not a nice person; I want to slap them.
There's a sign on our garbage bins that says "please, no wet garbage".
Many people in Marin ARE wet garbage.
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