Dear people going about your business on a lovely Sunday afternoon:
When you pass a woman on her knees on the sidewalk weeping over broken bags of groceries, yes, it is probably wise to hurry past, because she’s undoubtedly a wicked witch trying to lure you into her nest so she can push you into the oven and eat you for dinner. Then again, maybe she’s just having a bad day and could use a little help. But how will you ever know?
* * *
Dear guy who actually stopped to help, two doors from my building:
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
* * *
Dear San Francisco:
I am well and truly sick and tired of your utter parking fail.
* * *
And a p.s., to Mr. Supermarket Checker: Next time, double bags please.