Snapshot, San Francisco, October 11, 2004 Wandering Haight street on a Monday afternoon a day lacking  in money and imagination drunk on happy hour past blue ribbon and a skinny little hippy girl weaving down the sidewalk in my direction she’s maybe 18 looking dazed and disheveled her face is bleeding and she is sobbing quietly I vaguely wonder why no one is helping her and I vaguely wonder why I am not helping her and then I meet her eyes ugly little daggers of contempt and I decide to let her be I find three dollars in my pocket and slip into the Trophy Room for one more beer and sitting on the stool I find myself wondering if  on days like this I am hiding from life or hoping life might somehow find me here and if losing yourself and finding yourself are not one and the same in the end searching my pockets for jukebox money.