Fired!

Now that I’ve joined the bridge and tunnel crowd that floods into San Francisco each morning, I understand the robotic nature of the downtown population better than ever. It’s a boring, monotonous cycle—commuting to get to some gig at a company. So everyone generally falls in line, heads down, hands in pockets, hearts and minds safely tucked away.

But every so often a random junkie, homeless person or purple-haired office dweller knocks me out of my trance. It’s a welcome distraction from the day-to-day work routine. And one guy I encountered last week found the perfect captive audience at the crowded corner of Market and Beale.

I heard the metallic rumble of his shopping cart as he approached. People stared at their phones, impatiently waiting for the walk signal. He began his performance.

“None of this matters, people! Because…guess what…YOU’RE ALL FIRED!”

There was a maniacal laugh as he sifted through the crap in his basket. He still had 15 seconds.

“That’s right…you…and you…and you…YOU’RE ALL FIRED! FIRED! FIRED!”

Eventually the light changed and everyone rushed off into oblivion, but the whole scene made my day. Technically he was wrong, I wasn’t fired when I got to work, but it was a great reminder that life is never as predictable as you might think.

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