Halfway through dinner a parade of weirdness started. This is why I prefer to eat outdoors, whenever possible, especially in the Mission. It’s like dinner theater. First was a typical homeless spanger. The kind who has perfected the ability to interact with you so skillfully that you can’t ignore him, but neither can you remember him later. The kind of guy who understands deeply the rules of homeless person behavior. The only part of him I remember aufblasbare spiele is his hand. He approached our table, extended his hand, and opened it conspiratorily. Inside was one shiny dime. 

“That’s a nice dime you have there,” I said, choosing to remark upon the literal meaning of the gesture rather than the implied meaning. 

Link.