I have to confess to a little admiration for that bumper sticker that says “Coexist” made up of various symbols. I see it and think, “Duh. We would if they would.”

While leaving a parking garage. As I was exiting the little hut that houses the elevator and stairwell, two guys were walking toward it–one large, six-foot-plus guy with scraggly beard, earring(s?), leather jacket, one smaller, somewhat scrawny, black-trenchcoated fellow. The smaller guy was saying in a rather … piercing … voice: “And I have that hip-swivel that only comes when I’m about to–” at which precise moment they entered the elevator hut and thus exited my hearing range.

And no, I don’t want to know. At all.