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Thought I would go up-scale and sell the San Francisco Bay Guardian. My spot was right next to the Chronicle paper stand which was a little hut between Market and the cable car turn around. The young very working class guy who ran that stand sold a lot of papers.

People I found out, were not interested in what I had. But I did learn that after just a few hours I could spot a Guardian customer half a block away. These people were different than all the rest, and you could see them coming. Threw my unsold papers in a trash can in an alley, of my girl friend of that time. I lost money.

These cafeterias also usually sported characters. There were a lot of retired people, but for instance in DC, I might assume that many of these people were ex-government workers, and could wonder further what they might know about the inner workings of the national government. They would know the underside of things of which we never heard of. Of course I was too shy to talk to anybody.

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