Today in Rochester, NY, part one:
Picking up trash at the bus stop where I catch my bus to work, I found a passport with a rubber band around it. Inside were a copy of a birth certificate, a permit allowing a minor to work, and a Social Security card. A friend at work who has contacts in various parts of City government said she would try and find out what school the person named in the passport went to and notify the school that his paperwork has been found.
Today in Rochester, NY, part two:
On the bus to work, two guys behind me were talking about the guy who runs Walmart (what kind of car does he drive? what is his daily routine?), undercover cops (we could tell he was undercover, white nigger named Bob, kept talking, asking lots of questions), and K3 and K4 (K3 is one name for a synthetic drug that produces many of the effects of marijuana).
Today in Rochester, NY, part three:
Walking from the corner of Main and South Avenue toward the office where I work, I saw two police officers who appeared to be chatting. On the ground near them, a plastic shopping bag, and what looked like part of a soda cup. I picked them up, walked to the two officers, and asked, “Do you ever pick up trash?” The woman officer raised her eyebrows and said, “That’s not our job. We have a situation here.” I replied, “I’m just tired that nobody cares that the city looks like shit, including the police.”