Our view here at the SF Weekly office usually offers a calming view of Alcatraz, sailboats cutting through the surf, and the Yang Ming cargo ship making its way into the bay each afternoon. Coworkers have mentioned the dramatic view could be mistaken for a giant screensaver.
But this week, our location means we are going deaf.
Our interviews have been interrupted by VROOOOM-swoosh-ROOOOAR! of the Blue Angels flying over the bay like a flock of seagulls from hell. The building tried to buy us off with an ice cream social up on the roof, to no avail. We are getting irritable. A usually stoic colleague just stood up and announced, “This is making me hate America!”
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