Thank-you, Beyonce

Last night I watched the San Francisco Giants game at ATT Park, where they lost to their cross-bay rivals the Oakland Athletics, 9-6. A slow game, almost four hours long, led to a midnight wait for the last couple of BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) trains to the East Bay suburbs. Upstairs, in the ticketing area of this downtown BART station, there were three SFPD patrolmen and two BART cops enjoying a nice chat together. After riding down the long escalator to the train platform, I understood why the cops were upstairs.  The panhandlers, pickpockets, scam artists, and a few druggies were having a good time working the upscale late night stragglers. As I found an unoccupied wall to stand in front of, so I didn't have to watch my back, two young hookers came up to me. "Could we stand next to you until the Concord train arrives? This is a pretty scary place." "You sort of look like a real caring Dad type, and we're hoping you could just, um, be sure we get to the Orinda Station...(Read Full Post)