»In which I exit with an octopus.

Down at the Ferry Building, we saw Matthew making up all sorts of creatures (and hats, and flowers, and mediaeval weaponry) from ballons and a hand-pump. He bit off the ends of balloons, twisted lengths of the brightly-coloured plastic into odd shapes, and charmed the young 'uns, all while keeping the crowd of onlookers entertained with his patter. Asked by one of the crowd, "Where'd you learn to do this, kid?" he answered, without missing a twist, "Prison." He kept up his spiel while passers-by interrupted, and would occasionally ask somone waiting for a particularly elaborate hat, "Do you mind if I make a flower for the pretty girl?".
And then we saw naked cyclists, once, twice, three times. Part of World Naked Bike Day in protest of oil-something-or-'nother, not quite as appealing as the good sports at The Fixed-Gear Enthusiass, a nicely-done site that may not be safe for work.