Dead Tired

Even dead I'm glad to be in San Francisco. Its the first place in the nation where non-violent dead were and are still afforded some slim measure of civil rights, for those of us who can still provide some productive role in society. This usually meant a janitorial or menial labor job. The guy handing out samples at the store, he's usually a zombie by now, as are most car park attendants, ticket takers at movie theaters, but even though they make great toll takers at the bridges our military still has to be there just incase something or a former someone tries to run, or even as remote as the possibility is, to drive across. All this employment doesn’t go without some risk, a zombie even a good zombie, is a lot like a dog, and I’m talking a good dog here; when driven by fear, abuse or loyalty, a dog or zombie can, and will bite, I’m no exception.