Two of the 16th-and-Mission locals – the big guy and the bent-over guy with the child’s shopping trolley – are engaged in some kind of mercantile activity. The big guy pours a handful of silver into the bent-over guy’s outstretched hand. The money spills onto the tarmac, catching the light and ringing like tiny cash registers.

“Dang,” says bent-over guy, “there’s a hole in my hand.”

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