You know what I mean.

It seems like the escalators are always broken at the BART stations.

While I’ve always agreed with Mitch Hedberg’s take on the situation, the escalator entrance is usually blocked by a little fence made of yellow plastic. This means a whole lot of people are forced to navigate a very skinny stairway to the sidewalk above.

Like ants, commuters emerge from a small opening underground and spread out in waves of fast-walking, pseudo-professional determination. This mass exodus is perfect target for the spare-change seeking homeless.

Many shake a cup. Others have signs. And sometimes I encounter a guy with a greeting or a piece of advice. Like today.

“Happy Friday, you know what I mean…” he said to each passerby.

“Happy Friday, you know what I mean…”

“Happy Friday, you know what I mean…”

When it was my turn, he paused and we made eye contact.

“Looks like you’re already having a happy Friday…I know you know what I mean,” he said with a hearty laugh.

I took his comment as a compliment and considered giving him a buck or two as I was quickly brushed away by the hustle of the crowd making their ways to wherever.

Happy Friday…you know what I mean.

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One thought on “You know what I mean.

  1. Dan says:

    Is that a happy Friday in your pants or do you just know what I mean?

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