Today, our lunch break began with a terrifying encounter with a Specialty's delivery guy, Robert, who appeared to have sustained some serious injuries. That, or he bought fake scars and glued them to his face and caked it with make-up. "I'm just dead," he explained.
Robert is not the first and certainly not the last to don costume a full 24 hours before the average trick-or-treater. In fact, our lunch break yielded a healthy numbers of early Halloween celebrators (and more than a few pre-ejack-o-lanterns).Around 12:30 p.m., this slightly lacking game of beer pong was on the move in front of the baseball stadium. (Ed.: Looks like the gent on the right toting the cane is dressed as Dr. House).
In Nob Hill, several classrooms of children were trick-or-treating on Polk Street. We weren't allowed to take the kids' pictures (we figure this is because some are in witness protection -- you saw Kindergarten Cop, right?), but their spider-headed group leader posed willingly.
Close by, a lady dressed as Tigger "with a monkey on my back" was lounging in the sun with her two cats. She had dressed them up in ribbons and such, and was hoping some people would spare a little change
(It was hard to see the cats because they were in the shade, and while I was talking to the lady, a passerby moved in close then jumped back in surprise. "I thought you had an actual fucking baby in there," he said.)Finally, on the way back to the office, we had to bust a U-turn and speed seven blocks to catch up with this cwazy wabbit.