Overheard outside Starbucks:
There’s nothing like being in a room full of drunks throwing pointed objects.
Overheard outside Starbucks:
There’s nothing like being in a room full of drunks throwing pointed objects.
I’ve finally found something more crowded than Comic-Con International: The Orange Street Fair on a Saturday night.
I think we usually end up going on Sunday, because while it’s usually a solid crowd, I don’t remember feeling quite so…herded. We ended up not doing much more than getting dinner and dessert.
Still, the baklava on Greek Street was good, as were the “Australian” potatoes (that probably weren’t any more Australian than the ice cream), and one of the lemonade stands was offering diet lemonade sweetened with Stevia, which meant Katie could actually drink it.
“Do you want a Viking helmet?” “F%@# yeah, I do!”
“Is your name Don?” “Uh, no.” “I wonder what it would have meant if your name was Don.”
“These cupcakes are insufficiently sized.”
“Do you even know where you’re going?” “Yeah, that way.”
Overheard at the fair last night:
“Are you sure that’s fake?”
“Yes, I just touched it. It’s plastic.”
Overheard at a medium-fast-food restaurant: a small child repeating, “I’m well-done! I’m well-done!” a half-dozen times. Kid, you keep using that phrase. I do not think it means what you think it means.
(On the other hand…wouldn’t it be funny if he grew up to be a medium?)
A brief exchange at Starbucks:
Me: I’d like an iced chai, medium. I mean grande.
Barista: It’s OK, I speak both languages.
(At the hotel coffee shop during Westercon.)
On a midday bus ride in San Francisco, a man in the back was holding forth on drugs, smoking, rehab, and the like, eventually comparing notes with a woman about all the drugs they used to do.
A woman in the middle of the bus remarked, “I feel like I’m in my own reality show.”
Another man responded, “Yeah, it’s called San Francisco.”
As I left for work this morning, I overheard a small child somewhere gleefully exclaiming, “I’m BATMAN!!” over and over again.