Thanksgiving is hell for a butcher. Everyone needs their fucking turkey, NOW. I pulled a ten hour shift on my day off. When I was finally off, I walked down Haight street for the hell of it. It’s usually calm, with the same old shitbag bums that don’t want to work asking for some change for a beer, and I always just walk down with my headphones on, ignoring them.
Tonight wasn’t really any different, so I walked into the lower height until I got to Molotov’s. I decided to have a beer to unwind, and right after I ordered, the bartender put Slayer on the jukebox. That was exactly what I needed, and I was content. I bullshitted with a hardcore punk chick for a few minutes while I had my beer, then headed home.
I cut over on Fillmore, to try and catch one of the last trains towards my house, over by Duboce Park and the Midtown Safeway. I’ve walked through here before, and it’s a boring part of town.
I started down the street with my hood up, headphones, listening to South Of Heaven, but without the volume all the way up. I inherited my father’s paranoia, and sometimes it shows. I saw a typical San Francisco street denizen up ahead of me, flailing his arms and ranting about some bullshit at a wall. While that it isn’t typical of the neighborhood, it is fairly common in this town, so I kept my eyes sharp, and maintained my pace.
(I see you had your mind all made up you group of
pitiful liars. before i woke to face the day, your master
plan transpired.)
As I got to the point where I needed to pass him, he saw me coming and asked for a cigarette. I continued to walk as if I hadn’t heard him; looking at the next intersection. He blocked my path, forcing me to stutter-step to try to get past. He repeated his question and I told him to fuck off. It was at this point that I saw another bum standing up in the shadow of the doorway he had been ranting at.
(Something told me…)
They were both twenty-something drop outs. It was clear that they weren’t yet broken by the street life, but still had been there for a while. I managed to get around the guy, and stepped up my pace a little. They both had that slightly emaciated look that all these bums get after enough time of living on drugs and crumbs. I have a job, a house; I eat well, and still play sports. Those differences between us was about to become very helpful.
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rsdio 
So you’ve decided that yes, indeed, you do want to jump into the hype surrounding mobile app development, because damn it, you want to make sure you get a piece of this new gold rush that’s going on. You like money after all. You read tech blogs a lot and you’ve learned that the right thing to do is to “disrupt” things. You have a couple of ideas for apps that, damn it, should revolutionize the platform and disrupt shit and make you an assload of ca$h.
