The post office was evacuated because some crazy guy who was trying to film everyone without their consent maced a bunch of people when they gave him static, making the air inside unbreathable and prompting a bevy of police cars and a fire-truck to arrive. Alas, I don't think they caught the guy, who took off on his electric bike about 30 seconds before the authorities appeared, simultaneously disguised and instantly identifiable by the crimson bandana he used as a face mask. People outside were coughing with exposure to the chemical and the paramedics guided a blind, tearfully red-faced postal worker to safety.

At the same time across the street, on the sidewalk between the Hult Center and the Graduate hotel, a guy with a body-sized placard and a megaphone was yelling at everyone that the only way to be saved was through Jesus. All I could think was, why not help some homeless, feed some people, or volunteer if you want to be Christlike? instead of yelling through a megaphone while people are wiping mace out of their eyes. I was annoyed, but perhaps the beautifully androgynous group of twenty-somethings eating breakfast outside Jazzy Ladies cafe who were laughing at him set a better example of how to react. They fully embraced the entertainment value of his uninvited proselytization, effectively deflating it by not taking it at all seriously, and joyfully mocked his judgements by repeating them like badges of honor. Hell ya! We're going to hell! Woot! Woot!