There are bus tokens in my pocketbook. There are bus tokens in my pocketbook, Bones, and I don't even remember how they got there. This implies an unprecedented level of planning about the use of public transportation. The bus system in the little town I moved from didn't even have tokens. And there's a little purple business card case with my BART ticket in it, too.

And if I ever imagined that my small-town geek jobs prepared me for this .com gold rush world, I've been shown the error of my ways. I have a manager who uses the phrase "going forward" to mean "in the future", and an engineering lead who threw a fit because one of the engineers spent 10 minutes looking for his pen. At the rate we're paying you, we'll buy you a new pen. And three people in the company wear the same tortiseshell rectangular glasses as me -- I didn't know I was being hip, honestly, I was just tired of pseudo-intellectual wire frame "Oh, my glasses show how very smart I am" glasses.

And I've got friends who are making six figures, yet complain that their favorite movie house has raised its prices by a quarter. Like they couldn't just work for another 30 seconds to earn that extra quarter. Is this is how it felt when Rome burned, Bones? And did the peasants feel any trepidation beforehand, or did they feel the same euphoria from being right in the middle of the action that I do?

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