small, small world

On the 38 Geary BX (which, incidentally, does not stop at Spruce, transit.511.org LIES) I moved to the back of the bus to make room for the swarming masses and who did I run into but Bringo! We had a very interesting conversation about the death of critical thinking, the rise of Google, and I didn’t mean to correlate those two but I was in a bit of a huff. I got to find out what Bringo would love to do for a living, but I’m not telling. Let’s just say it’s slightly more death-defying than riding the 38 Geary next to me, although not by much, because I was accidentally pummeling everyone around me each time the bus would, say, move at all. San Francisco is handily small, like a purse dog, or a bullet pen, or an iPod nano, or … hey,...