Working at a bar until after 2:00am in the Tenderloin Dsitrict of San Francisco may have not been the best idea for a young girl lacking in street smarts, especially when having to walk to the bus all by my lonesome in the middle of the dark city night. One night, after getting off work around 3:00 am (I could not leave until all the dishes were done & the condiments refilled) I went and sat on a small, cement bench on Market Street and waited patiently for my bus. Across the street I saw a strange looking man walking in a zig-zagged fashion; he was disheveled and obviously missing some marbles. I watched him as he fumbled around, seeming to be looking for some imaginary something. Then he started to cross the street and made a beeline directly to where I was sitting. I felt tense wondering what he was going to do. He walked right up to me and I looked him in the face. He stopped in front of me and held out is hand in the shape of a fist, finger-side-down. For some reason, I held out my hand under his, palm-side-up. He opened his fist and poured a pile of dollars and coins into my open palm and walked away. I closed my fingers around the money and said thank you.