OK - So Veen already sort of did what I have imagined doing. But he failed.

A long time ago, after a lot of exposure to early Tarantino movies or something, I decided it would be very amusing to spend a few hours as one of those people who walked around nonchalantly with a Halliburton case full of cool crisp cash and a rough-looking group of associates.

Except, not being an actual International Person of Mystery and Crime, but a Local Person of Relative Ordinariness, I would have, not a hardened case of paper featuring Andrew Jackson's face, but a tin lunch box packed with equally crisp $1 bills.

We figured out that about $1000 should about do it.

The goal of the Lunch Box Posse would be to go out on Friday night and not come home until all the money was spent in the most amusing way possible, one dollar at a time, in a manner opposite to all of our normal considered spending pattens.

I realize this is a very San Francisco way of doing things, turning something into an ad hoc performance or goofy social experiment. We would buy burritos for everyone in line at El Faralito and purchase bunny suits to wear to the climbing gym. Everyone would get a fresh new bottle of Fernet. At some point there would be a spontaneous parade. (And, this is starting to sound like a fairly ordinary Friday night for a lot of people.)

A New Yorker with the same goal of concentrated squander would enjoy a single thousand-dollar piece of perfect sashimi.

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And, really, at this point, I'd probably just get a new chair from Modernica.