I stayed home today and enjoyed the life of a SF deeb. For lunch I ambled out of our apt and over to Fillmore where I sat with the rest of the workweek deebers in the Grove sipping coffee. My book (still Walden) sat on the corner of the table illustrating my depth. Next to the book I managed to balance my persona with the Economist and Us Weekly. The Blackberry was of course predominant - a precursory showing that I am a professional.
I must admit, I love the deeb life. I mixed chatting with a few partners (the BDDB work for the afternoon) with eavesdropping on sitting neighbors.
Here's who I think dwells these jaunts on weekdays:
- tourists (maybe, if they managed to get a tour book not directing them to the money pit that's union square)
- dog walkers
- stock brokers
- real estate agents (they have lots of time on their hands)
- Biz Dev peeps
- retail workers
No history in this entry - unless you count this as a sociological note on our generation. Deebgen.
P.s. "Deeb" equals douche bag - a term lovingly coined by my matty.
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