Walking along in the Mission
Mattresses for sale piled on the sidewalk just off the truck, handmade unfinished wooden dressers straight from Mexico in the mom-and-pop furniture store, a guy selling hot dogs without a permit from his truck in a metered space on the side of the road, a taco shop or two on every block.
People here work hard, and work to buy and sell the necessities of life. They're poor, but they're doing something real.
The rest of us in Disneyfied California earn outrageous wages compared to our global counterparts to do things like push oversized mortgages and overpriced education on unwitting victims, and after work we suck out another $100,000 for botox and cruises from the home ATM.
This Depression is gonna hurt us phoneys a lot more than it hurts the good people of the Mission.
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