WET STREET, SAN FRANCISCO

So it rained this weekend. And when it was time to return home, it was downpouring. Which meant that the bus was nearly empty. And there were few pedestrians about when I got off. Except for a running half naked man. Who, evidently, may have had issues. Possibly he was upset that everyone's favourite fascist scumball Ron De Santis had dropped out of the race, possibly his upper garments had borne the logo of a losing team, or maybe he had ingested substances that were ill-advised.

He violently threw a bottle down so it exploded everywhere, then delivered a roundhouse kick that knocked me flat. As I scrabbled back up, he had gotten into a fight with another person who chased him for over a block. They disappeared from sight around a corner.
So I did not follow any further. Can't move that fast.

I'm okay. My umbrella was totally destroyed. The miscreant! That umbrella cost me all of three bucks a few years ago! I was going to leave it to my descendants!

I am aflame with indignation.

Actually, I have several reserves. I keep getting caught in the rain, so I've purchased a number of identical inexpensive brollies over the years. It's just that as a cheapskate Dutchman, I am outraged about the event. And the loss of $2.99
If I remember correctly. Which I'm sure I do.

Let's see , depreciating at 20% a year, four years plus .......
Yep, still had at least half a buck to go.
At least!


Outraged. The nerve!


Palpabulous!




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