Nihilism Over Dark Beers and Pork Belly Donuts
"What's the meaning of it all? Why is anyone out protesting? What am I doing at my job? Why do I even ride my bike home at night?"
My friend Levi waxed nihilistic at the Sycamore last night. We'd both had decently shitty Thanksgivings, he was wondering whether to quit his first job, I reminisced about quitting my first job… then my second, and we talked about both getting ahead in the world and how to fix it. The world, that is. How the political parties were wrong, how the economic system was obsolete, and how San Francisco was no better than anyplace else.
"Every city has it's thing," explained Levi, "In New York, it's money and pragmatism and brand names; in LA it's film and fashion and who you know; in SF it's eco-friendly spiritualism and yoga."
"And succulents," I offered.
"And succulents, of course." Levi had moved to Bernal about six months ago, home of the infamous SF succulent thief.
"Look, I agree, and it's all about getting laid. Money and Louis Vuitton bags get you laid in New York, so that's what people do. If wearing plaid and doing yoga gets me laid in San Francisco, then I'm all about the plaid and the asanas. But there are some lifestyles that are healthier and more sustainable than others, and at least you can say we've got that. I mean, a love of succulents never hurt anyone."
"Well..." and Levi shrugged, knowing some of his Bernal Heights neighbors would disagree.
