The rest of those jerks can’t respond to a text message.
Halloween in the Mission District took the form of a mass of costumed nine year olds, most with pumpkin buckets and parents in tow. The sheer number of kids in the neighborhood was fairly amazing to me and seeing them all dressed up made Mission Halloween that much better—it all seemed worlds superior to the non-celebration going on in the Castro, where an armada of cops was apparently deployed to ensure that nobody was having too much fun. I was disappointed that our apartment didn’t receive any trick-or-treaters, but apparently hitting up the local businesses rather than residences is more in line with tradition. For the sake of variety, this probably makes more sense and an informal survey discovered vegan mini cupcakes being distributed at Ritual Coffee Roasters, peanut butter cups at the Bartlett/24th liquor store, and mint flavored toothpicks at the take-out Chinese place across from the BART station. As usual, this area was the center of activity.
After a bit of aimless wandering, I put on my biking gloves, climbed up to our back balcony where nobody can see me, and played songs into the cool night air. This is becoming a routine during these solitary times. It finally feels like Fall.