While I am not actually disgruntled, I am far from being gruntled.
I work in a very beautiful part of San Francisco. I get to enjoy a nice little stroll down the Embarcadero in the wee hours of the morn. Birds chirp. The old fashioned rail cars clang cheerily as they roll pass. The smell of the sewers is even pretty negligible. And after months of moping around Cole Valley, and months before that moping around Downtown Oakland, you must understand it is almost like Camelot.
Ha. I come to find out to find out, it is in fact a very silly place indeed.
I receive an email from Security today, informing us that they had received word of an armed gunman in the neighborhood, and would be locking the door for the rest of the day. Employees were advised to not venture outside.
I'm sorry. What?
I worked in Oakland during the Bart riots this winter. I would leave work long after dark, and we would walk in groups the two blocks to the Bart station. I never received company warning of armed gunmen in the neighborhood.
Then again perhaps this was to be taken for granted.
A gunman? In the shadow of Coit Tower? What does one say? In the words of one of my favorite authors, "Very good", I say coldly. "In that case, tinkerty-tonk".
And I mean it to sting.