Refuse

It was another beautiful day in San Francisco as I rode the 1 California returning to work from an appointment I had earlier in the morning. Crystal blue skies, temperature promising to reach the mid 80s with various Chinese folk returning from shopping with those pink bags that only the Chinese seem to carry. I was enjoying the relatively empty bus when to my right I hear a cacophony of f-bombs and other colorful verbiage eminating from a man standing accross the street. I looked towards the direction of the shouting, said man was rifling through a backpack. As he was digging into this backpack, he suddenly stops yelling, stands bolt upright while holding something in his hand. Holding this object up to the sky, looking as intently as a jeweler might while appraising a jewel, he cockes his head and then curses while tossing the object into the air and out onto the street. As the bus pulled away, the object did a jaunty bounce and came to rest. It was then I was able to see what the man was looking at. It was a syringe. The bus pulling away, I mumbled under my breath about how inconsiderate people can be in this town when throwing out their garbage. I mean there was a trash can right on the corner of the street, for Pete's sake!