Rarely does a letter to City Call carry the tone of justified righteousness displayed in a screed penned by of out-of-work database engineer Paul Nisbett. But rarely has San Francisco seemed to so effectively apply its apparent kick-em-when-they're down policy than it has in Nisbett's case.
Rampant parking tickets led him to get rid of his car. Thanks to never-repaired streets, he's pummeled by potholes every day riding his bike around town. He lost the last job he had when his part-time gig with the U.S. Census was up. Two weeks ago he and a friend sought solace sipping a beer at Washington Square Park, when a cop walked up and gave them each $175 tickets for violating the city's anti open container law. Some folks would curse their luck. Not Nisbett. He cursed his city supervisor — in writing.
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