I'm sitting in the Whole Foods in Potrero Hill downing a turkey sandwich before the Porchlight show. This is the most gleaming, bright, appealing store I've ever been in. It's a cathedral to fetishized eating, the apex of smug, groovy good taste.
The Clash's Train in Vain is playing (I love that song!) and I am noticing that people on this side of the city do not look so much like people on my side of the city. They are hipper, for one thing. Grungy t-shirts, sculpted facial hair, tattoos, knit watch caps and flip-flops. There is not a single old Chinese woman in a a down parka to be seen. No retired cops or old muttering Russians with big hair and sweat suits.
Sometimes I think I'd like to live over here. But where would I park the minivan?
On another note, I found this incredibly funny.