When discussing our collective desire to move out of San Francisco to somewhere where the cost of living is reasonable, my sister-in-law, Sarah, offered a particularly "last-straw" story.
Note that Sarah is recently out of college, works as both an unpaid intern at a publishing house (internships are the new economy's slave labor) and as a clerk at Amoeba records. She pays way too much rent for what she's getting and recently her bicycle was stolen out of her apartment. This all contributes to her frustration.
Sarah: So the other night I was waiting to catch a bus to take me to a costume party. The party's theme was Las Vegas and Weddings so I was dressed as 'something blue.' This costume consisted of blue pants, a blue sweater and a knit cap. While I was waiting to catch my bus some Marina girls...
Mena: Marina girls?
Sarah: Rich girls that come to the Haight to throw money around.
Sarah: Anyway, I'm standing, waiting for my bus and these girls pass and offer me their leftovers!
Mena: No way!
Sarah: Yeah. I was just standing with my arms folded. It wasn't like I was sitting on a stoop.
Mena: What did you say?
Sarah: I said "No! I don't want your leftovers." But the thing is that after this exchange, nobody would make eye contact with me.
Mena: I'm sorry. But you have to admit, it's pretty funny.
Sarah: I guess. You should have seen these girls -- their clothes looked brand new -- like they had never even touched them before.
Mena: Continue talking like that and I'm going to start offering you leftovers.