Every weekday I drive along San Francisco’s waterfront to get to the office, and I always look to the rocketship at the end of Mission street. For some reason I decided that if there was a bird perched on the warhead, it was gonna be a great day. If not, all bets are off.
I’m not particularly superstitious. I don’t knock on wood or throw perfectly good money into water fountains. I do the salt-over-the-shoulder thing , however, because the consequences involve me being undead. Which is unsettling. But anyway.
I don’t think it matters either way, because less than three minutes after passing the rocketship this morning I got cut off by some speeding jackass in a van and went on to flip him off.
Yeah, it’s gonna be an interesting day.
