Sticky fingers and Super Bowl 60

Over the weekend, I stopped a theft-in-progress. No, I don't want to risk my well-being for a box of chocolates, but I actually recognized the would-be thief as someone who has sporadically visited the shop over the past year. I recall our having had friendly chats; he had even made at least one purchase with me. I also had a feeling he wouldn't react violently when confronted. Fortunately, I was right. 

The scene unfolded like this: I was near the front display area ribboning a box when I heard a thud. I turned to see this dude, who I recognized as a somewhat infrequent shop visitor, pick up a box of Valentine's Day confections ($98.) that he'd apparently just dropped on the floor. We looked at each other and I turned back to ribboning. As with any retail job, one must keep one's head on a swivel, so, within seconds, I had turned back to look only to see his swift departure from the shop and the box of fallen chocolates tucked neatly under his arm, partially obscured by a coat. I thought to myself, 'Not today, kitten!' and took off like Tom Cruise after him. This was Saturday, the day before the Super Bowl and the day of the large Farmers' Market at the Ferry Building, so I had to sort of wend my way through the crowd, reaching him a couple of store fronts down the corridor. Tapping the man gently on the shoulder, he turned and I quietly said, 'Give me the chocolates'. He did and I took the box and walked quickly back to the shop. 

***

On Saturday night I left work to find a throng of people standing around the sidewalk out front of the Ferry Building, on the street car platform and further west by Justin Herman Plaza nearer to the BART station. They were gazing up at a light display projected onto the side of the Ferry Building. The colors of Super Bowl 60, a sort of Miami Vice meets 80s neon clothing store in a shopping mall, were on display. Thursday's projection, if you can believe it, was a little more tame--

Thursday night, light on visitors, but not on LIGHT.

One could not see through the crowd to the other side of Embarcadero Blvd. Leaving the Ferry Building almost felt like being up front at a massive rock show where, when trying to move, one has to bob and weave in order to get to the exit. Temporary bollards had been installed anywhere a vehicle could drive up and access people, too. A grim reality, I know, but given how vehicles have been used as maiming machines here and abroad, it seemed prudent to have them be installed here.