THE STRANGERS

The city is filled with people. Not being a people person, I do not like this. These are random people, whom I have not seen before and will never see again. Visitors. It was tech week, it is Colombus Day weekend, and the military is in town for Fleet Week, along with the Blue Angels which apparently people wish to see.

On an intellectual level I like people. Especially regular people, whom I will see on occasion in predictable surroundings. People who have become real people. I would not mind if half the people were extras from a teevee show I had habitually watched for years.
These people are not those.

These are a collection of haphazard people, from various places, who are all largely faceless to me. Sourceless quebbling anonymi, sheer hordes of them.

They are not vetted by any semi-familiarity.

The bus back from work filled up in Sausalito. More people piled in at the last stop before the bridge, and there was flood of them at the toll plaza. Too few of them got off at the Palace of Fine Arts. None got off at Fillmore Street.

All of you, please leave.

Seriously.

There is nothing to see here. We have rabid street people.

Smoking is permitted in many open areas.

Stop feeding the pigeons.

Mind the curbs.



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