Shit, shit and more shit

Welcome gentle subscribers to this week's edition of the Berkeley Street Society column! We have some wonderful pieces for you this week, thoughtfully collected by our growing network of bs correspondents and we are excited to debut a new Travel section. Read on and enjoy.

If you didn't recognize downtown Berkeley this weekend, it might have been because of the veritable dearth of panhandlers and other members of Berkeley Street Society. Well, you may ask, where has everyone gone? We here feel proud to present you with exclusive information - Happy April Fool's Day! Members of Berkeley Street Society, under latest policy, were told in the spirit of the holiday, an all city encompassing game of hide and go seek was to be played! All members were kind enough to contribute and hid accordingly, but for some reason or another, the all clear hasn't been sounded yet! So until the local constibulary recalls to yell Ollie ollie oxen-free, we're stuck with bare pavement as far as the eye can see and left to accumulate record amounts of pocket change. We hope your pockets have reinforced seams.

Shit Spotting -
A loyal bs correspondent informed us she was struck with a blinding assault on the senses during a walk. What appeared to be an average white t-shirt hanging on a fence turned foul when it was discovered that the apparently well-bleached and clean shirt's other side was profusely smeared with excrement. Why it was hanging on a fence for all to view is not known, but it is suspected that it was an artist's statement about humanity.

For those who enjoy tales of horror and are strong of stomach we offer a new series:
IN SEARCH OF A BATHROOM, stories from the downtown Ross dressing rooms
One of our faithful bs correspondents shares tales about her time as the dressing room attendent at the downtown Berkeley Ross discount department store:

I think the most horrifying experience I had at Ross was the makeup case. Generally the case in question was a travel size case, the type that unzips into two or more zipper compartments. We sold tons of them, but some of them met a terrible fate.
My co-worker and I would be standing around, racking up unwanted items, when we would smell something, let us say,UNHOLY. Knowing something was wrong we would dare each other to investigate. Opening the doors, like a game of Russian Roulette, we would finally uncover the culprit, or what the culprit had left behind...
My brave co-worker, so brave, so brave she was, to enter this place and find the innoceous makeup case and she actually unzipped it. Bravery in the line of fire, that was what it was, for afterward there was screaming and laughing and flipping out and then screaming some more. We gagged and nearly threw up, we couldn't believe someone had copped a squat and then zipped it back up. It was liquidy, purely vile and chunky and just - shitty. Imagine having to call one of the managers back to the fitting room to explain to him that some nasty bitch shit in one of the travel bags that we sold. We should note, like the sidewalk shitters outside, there was no evidence of wiping material.

Travel -
In the historic North Beach neighborhood of San Francisco, other Street Societies are waiting to be explored. While enjoying your coffee you will be treated to a view of another cafe patron being assaulted by a flailing Street Society member. When shouted down by other patrons, the assault ends quickly and the member jerkily stalks off, perhaps intending to find easier prey or perhaps to wrestle less physical demons. Conversation turns to the incident and it is revealed that the society member is known to scream at odd hours in the morning until "someone tells him to shut up."
San Francisco is an environment known to have various Street Societies, the largest of which is based downtown on Market Street. We welcome you to treat yourself for a day by exploring the Embarcadero, the beautiful new Ferry Building filled with tasty (and expensive) comestibles and the waterfront. With luck, you may see one of the regular Street Society members there, a gentlemen known to solicit monetary accolades for his stunning performance, titled "Just a nickel and a smile will last a long while," and his more lengthy street theater piece, "Can somebody help me? I'm trying to get inebriated! They say honesty is the best policy and I'm tired of lying about cheeseburgers I never buy."

Sightings:
Omar Perro was up early on Sunday morning collecting Sunday newspaper editions. Chipper as always he insisted on saying Hello to everyone in his immediate vicinity. Never one to be set back by a lack of eye contact or oncoming traffic, Omar Perro excitedly waved hello to everybody before attempting to gain entrance to a business.

The Pumpkin Lady was seen exhibiting a shiny red bead necklace adorned with plastic chili peppers, a new addition to her spring wardrobe, notably moving from her favored gourd to the spicy fleshyness of fruit.

The Ring Man was sighted twice this week, once in search of the most popular item this season with all bums, the gaudy ring. He was also spotted attempting to take liberties with the change of customers trying to enter and exit a local bookstore.

A gentleman who has been described to us as the Shamrock man has made his inconsitent round recently to stock up on shamrock stickers. He has been known to proudly affix them to his clothing before setting out for destinations unknown. Whether for the gentlman is it a personal talisman of sorts or perhaps a totem of some kind, is left to our readers to consider.

A lady we shall call YWCA, having quite possibly vacated such an organization and having with her various personal items such as a pillow , dallied with a downtown resident to notable acclaim. With a opening riposte of "hey there, MR. Security Guard," heady words were exchanged, offense having been greatly taken by Manimal, to whom the remarks had been intended. However YWCA was genteel enough to step away on an afternoon promenade when Manimal showed intentions of involving the constables.

Berkeley Street Society presents the second in our series of imaginary battles (reminding all that the bs correspondents have way too much time on their hands sometimes). Join us this week in imagining a place in which descrepit female skinflints sneak from their mansions and apartment complexs to work the streets exchanging their carefully crafted pathetic greetings for pocket change:

it's BAG LADY RUMBLE!
Mrs. Prune vs. the "blind" lady

Mrs. Prune doesn't wait to trade blistering epithets, she throws her giant purse into the kidney of her opponent while simultaniously burning her in the eye with her lit Virginia Slim cigarette. Who knew that this tiny crone had so much power in her? But wait, the "blind" lady is back and retatliates by beating Mrs Prune about the head and shoulders with her cane (untipped and fully extended). Mrs. Prune bows under the blows and when she looks up for mercy her face meets with the harsh rain of pennies thrown by her opponent. With a scream of "stay away from me," Mrs. Prune unveils her most fierce weapon, biological warfare of the meanest type, she raises her skirt in meaningful defiance. The "blind" lady is taken aback, assaulted by a putridness beyond description, this dirty fight has gotten undescribably rotten. Gasping for breath, the "blind" lady runs, joined by everyone in the immediate vicinity outside the local coffee bar. In the train station underground, station operators suddenly wonder if sewage is seeping into the tunnels again.
The fight is Mrs. Prune. We salute you.

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Thank you for joining us in our crude revelling in the little things that Berkeley is known for. We are gratified by your attention.