Posted on December 3, 2012
I found twenty dollars blowing on the downhill slope of Green Street into Chinatown and North Beach on a Saturday night, folded tight for a night out on the town, still warm, deliciously anonymous. We spent it immediately, on one of those chopped salads at Rose Pistola and that grilled squid they do with the blackened, smoky tentacles in a vinaigrette. That was the moment my luck changed from bad to medium. The city gave something freely, blew it my way for fun. A chilly, disembodied finger beckoned. Be a thief, receive a gift. Be bad. Do good.