Hey everybody, I just got back from California and I just wanted to let you know I’m moving to the Bay Area. But don’t worry, I am not leaving you high and dry, here is next months rent. It’s all the money I have but no worries, seriously, keep it, I insist. I won’t need it where I’m going. Don’t look so shocked, dear friend, trust me, I haven’t lost it…unless by “lost it” you mean, lost the desire to work hard every day only to be rewarded with a boot smashing in my front teeth. Oh, as for my personal possessions, do as you will with them, the City of San Francisco provides free MacBook Pro’s to any citizen who needs to update their Facebook status. And if the one you get has an outdated version of Adobe©, they will waitlist you for an upgrade. Dont look at me like that, let me tell you a story, all hyperbole aside, about San Francisco.
***So, I’m walking in the rain and realize that I forgot to bring my jacket to San Francisco, so I see an American Apparel© and say, “Hey, I bet they have some really fashionable clothes in there, all of which were manufactured by people earning a living wage”. So I decide to go in, and as I cross the sidewalk I pass a homeless man who is sitting on a milk crate under an overhang. The first thing I notice is that he is filthy. The second thing I notice is that he is opening several large containers of delivery chinese food. Perhaps this is the time to note that I had just had a delicious meal, right around the corner in Chinatown at some place I saw on Anthony Bourdain©.
So, still trying to process how a homeless man has apparently just ordered Chinese food, I looked closer and found that he was opening up boxes of soft-shell crab with scallion and ginger, steamed shrimp shumai, and shredded orange beef with chinese broccoli. He saw me looking and instead of asking for money, deftly saluted with his chopsticks before tucking in. I was temporarily confused, and then realized I was standing in front of the store and I could see the employees inside were all complete doucheries. So I turned to my accountant and asked him if he thought there was even any point in trying to go in. Before my charge-de-affairs could answer, the homeless man chimed in as he dipped his shumai in its accompanying spicy hoisin sauce, advising me not to go in. My attorney and I were baffled and went in. Five minutes later, I exited in a state of shock and horror at what I had seen inside this seemingly innocuous retail outlet…I think my ear may have even been bleeding from the change in pressure and I was certainly disoriented. The homeless man was still eating, and reading the New York Times. I looked at him as if to say, why didn’t I listen to you, oh wise one and he just nodded and went back to the Op-Ed page. Please note that at no point did this gentleman, and I use the term with the utmost respect, ask for money. In fact, the only transaction between us was his attempt to give me priceless advice and my foolhardy refusal of such.
So as you can see, I would have to be an idiot to stay here when a land exists where beggars eat Dungeness crab and weed is legal. I did my part, see ya later!
*** All this is true.
P.S.- David Lee Roth is a liar.
