Last night (really, early this morning) I got myself all cleaned up so when I woke up all I'd have to do is the minimum before heading out the door. I wanted to wake up at 1 in the afternoon but it was more like noon because the people on one side of me had big trucks out there, taking away from oil drums.
I had also, last night, met with a police officer who had told me it would be real help if I could figure out who owns the building, one of two here that share the parking lot, that houses an illegal night club that's annoying as hell because it operates 2-5AM and the clientele make noise, piss everywhere, get in parking lot fights, etc.
So it was a busy night, and when I woke up I had not had enough sleep but that's the way it goes sometimes. I took off at 1:20 or so, dropped off trash, dropped off donations at the Japantown little free library, picked up a can of coffee and some food at Nijiya, mailed a couple packages at the post office, stopped at the bank....
Well, the pay check Ken had written me was post dated the 27th which means I could actually not deposit it. I was cheerful about the whole thing and will see them on Monday.
This was all OK because I was headed to Menlo Park to sell something which is how I'm planning to live for most of the next year, putting my pay checks in the bank. I ate my food and drank my coffee on the train, got over to the place, sold the thing, and that was that.
On the way back I got off the train in Sunnyvale and checked out the Goodwill there, and found a nice jacket for $13 that will come in handy this winter. I had a big orange one last winter, which got kind of dirty looking and I got tired of it and donated it.
On my way back, when I got on the train headed for home from Menlo Park, I noticed a gal with a neat older bike, a Bridgestone. I thought nothing of it (not even why she wasn't in the bike car) and sat down, and then realized she was having a "discussion" with this train conductor guy. She insisted he'd been "condescending" to her and was doing to write "a complaint!" and when she got off I called out, "'Bye Karen!" I mean, geez, if I do something dumb on the train, like for instance, am unable to figure out that there's a bike car, I'd expect the train personnel to be a little sarcastic. They put up with a lot, and hey, they run the train, they know what they're doing. Maybe it's because I've been in the Army and "Karen" hasn't.
After buying the jacket in Sunnyvale and getting back to Whole Foods on The Alameda where my bike was locked up, I bought some stuff, swung by the Amazon place for bubble mailers, and was tootling on home when I had to get around an SUV that pulled into the bike lane in front of this high end health club sort of place, and had to squeeze by. "Excuse me, Karen!" I said sarcastically and that pissed off the blonde, middle-aged lady driving the thing so, good.
I got back here and now I'm in for the night, whew. The whole ethos of this place is, "You're not here to make friends, you're here to work!".
I did notice, though, that at Whole Foods there on The Alameda, at straight-up 6PM, there were no petition-hustlers, child-charity scammers, or any of the usual assortment of grifters so if I were practiced up enough to busk, I'd have been able to get in an hour or two. In fact once I'm skilled enough to start busking, it will not be that difficult to take the flute with me and play at various places.
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