Am I street legal?

Yesterday's talk of "donations" vs "selling" on Telegraph made me curious, unsure what our "Permit to Place Object on Sidewalk" calls it when someone hands me cash and I give them a fish sticker. Is that a sale? Or a donation?

I wanted to see what the small print says, but after the city schmuck handed me the permit last Friday, I gave it to Jay. She looked it over during our dinner that night, and I think she told me she'd slipped the paperwork into one of the pockets in the big green ledger that's always with the cart. The Big Book of Fish, I call it, but on the Ave I went through all its pockets and found nothing but stale Wrigley's Spearmint I'd stashed there some months back.

This could be an uh-oh. Maybe it means I've been street vending without a license, just like Gerry. 

♦ ♦ ♦ 

Checked my voice messages, and there's a call from the lovely and talented Sarah-Katherine. She's in San Francisco, staying at a Marina hotel with her kid brother. I called back, left a message with the hotel switchboard, and with luck we'll connect tomorrow.

To clarify: It's Sarah-Katherine I want to connect with. Sorry if this sounds rude, but I don't have much interest in connecting with her brother.

♦ ♦ ♦ 

While I was at the phone booth, I also called Jay to ask about the permit, and she told me which pocket of the notebook she'd put it in. Back at the table, I found it, in a hidden pocket I didn't even know was there.

So between customers I read the small print on our coveted permit, to see if we're 'selling' fish or taking donations. All I could find was this sub-section that says, 

"I have received from the City Manager's Office a copy of these sections of Ordinance #3262-NS as amended by Ordinance #4594-NS, relative to the use of objects on sidewalk, am familiar with its contents, and agree to comply with ordinance requirements."

Jay signed that, but what does it mean? I think it's referring to those doublespeak-laden city documents that Jay brought back from her first frustrating visit to a city office, as she began chasing this elusive permit way back in September.

To my knowledge, though, we no longer have a copy of the ordinances in question. Certainly, absolutely, if I was the last person who had it, I trashed it. Nobody said we should keep it, and I hate paperwork, and it made little sense anyway.

We're "familiar with its contents"? Hell, no.

So I still have no idea whether we 'sell' fish or accept donations. Not that it would make a damned bit of difference in how I run the stand, but on principle, I sure hope I'm doing something illegal.

♦ ♦ ♦ 

Judith says she spotted a roach in the kitchen, and it was really big. 

♦ ♦ ♦ 

I called Sarah-Katherine's hotel again, and this time spoke with her. That's never happened before. I hate phones, and when she's not in town she's long distance, and that's expensive, so we'd only conversed in letters and in person.

Without her very nice eyes to distract me, I can report that she has a soft, kinda sexy voice, and what a great laugh! 

She's chaperoning her brother on this trip. He's in San Francisco to take a test, for college admission, I think, so while he's scratching his head and filling out ovals all day tomorrow, Sarah-Katherine and I will have the city all to ourselves.

From Pathetic Life #19
Friday, Dec. 8, 1995

This is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago, called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting things, so parental guidance is advised.

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