»The polls are now closed!

The town crier just rode by, bellowing "The polls are now closed" at the top of his lungs. I'm sitting on the stoop, drinking the dregs of a case of Miller High Life (The Champagne of Beers, available $8.99 from the New Santa Clara Market on the corner) with Aram, who's on the phone for a legal hearing. At 8 o'clock in the pip emma.

Everyone's trying to claim the short short spot in front of the house; some idiot parked poorly, and took up two good spots with one ugly Subaru.

And some clown driving a pimped-out late-model Camaro convertible parked across the sidewalk, blocking pedestrian right-of-way. After about half an hour, a kid suddenly charged at the car and rolled capably across the hood. The annoying car alarm went off, and the enraged car driver had to interrupt his Scott St. booty call to turn off the alarm.