Starbucks no 1

Our first morning in San Francisco, at our local Starbucks, we sat ourselves down beside a man who was talking to himself, non-stop, at an inside window. He became more distressed as he went along, but he was sympathising with himself too. He said to himself, "How would YOU like to have severe mental problems?" Then he started into a stream of foul language, pitched at exactly the same volume as Stevie Wonder singing "Golden Lady" over the Starbucks PA. Weird!

Then I saw him fixate on a well-dressed guy drinking coffee with his girlfriend at a table outside. Mr. Foul Language leaned forward, stretched out his neck and spat out the most unholy stream of bile and invective it has ever been our misfortune to hear -- certainly the worst we have heard before we had finished our morning coffee! It was harrowing to see Mr FL, fogging the glass, inches away from the back of the neck of this guy who was calmly looking out onto Grant Street, unaware.