Rainy SF night

Pacemaker: Ugh! AnoMALIE! I swear! Yesterday was horrible! First off, I was in the city (SF) and it was pouring.
Me: Aww. Well, it still looked pretty. I still envy you.

Photo I was referencing. This city can be engulfed by flames and I'll still think it's beautiful.

Pacemaker: No, it gets worse. AnoMALIE, I'm walking across the street when I feel this guy hit my bag. I swear I thought I was getting mugged. I got startled... tell me why my bag disintegrates and everything comes tumbling out. In the middle of the street. Directly in front of Neiman Marcus. I was mortified. I had my huge umbrella in one hand, my Starbucks in the other... and now I had this huge dilemma.
Me: HAHAHAHAHA! I'm sorry... HAHAHAHA!
Pacemaker: So I had to try and rush to pick everything up with one hand before the light turned green... and I just kept looking at the cars like "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but my bag's a piece of shit." And I could just sense all these rich people thinking "Ugh... what's that hoodlum doing in our part of town?"
Me: HAHAHAHAHA!
Pacemaker: So I gather my shit and rush to the nearest store for some shelter. What place was it? Neiman. And you remember what type of doors Neiman has?
Me: Those huge revolving ones?
Pacemaker: YES! So there you have me, drenched and with a ton of shit in my hands, trying to balance my coffee... so I keep nudging the door with my shoulder... then my jumbo umbrella... then I kick it... and finally, I just use my back. I was out of breath and exhausted when I walked to the nearest counter and asked for a bag for my shit. They were really nice, since they felt so sorry for me.
Me: HAHAHAHA!
Pacemaker: I swear... this type of shit only happens to me... or you!
Me: No, had it happened to me, this is how shit would have gone down: My bag would have disintegrated just as a gust of wind would pick up, shit would fly, but not too far, just far enough to get me in the middle of the street... the dude really would have mugged me... then the streetlight would have turned green... and the poor guy behind the wheel of the car I'd be blocking would be James Franco... he'd get exasperated and start honking like a maniac, all while flicking me off... I would have started crying, my mascara would run, I'd spill the coffee all over my chest as I'd try pushing the revolving doors open, I'd break my umbrella while in the revolving door, I'd cut my foot as I'd step out of the revolving door, then, finally, I'd set-off the alarm as I'd walk into Neiman. Security would then search my suspected-of-theiving Mexican-ass and that's how I'd call it a day. And I wouldn't be granted a bag. THAT would happen to me.

Totally.