I was out tonight on a date night with my girlfriend; we celebrated six months by going to the place in Berkeley where we had dinner on our first date. Well, she's sitting across from me with the roses on the table, and there's this older gentlemen [1] who stops by our table. I have a hard time hearing him at first because his voice is quieter and there was a fair bit of background noise. He says he's getting ready to move from his place in Berkeley where he's lived since the 1970s, and a few other things that were harder to hear. He comes back over to the table and asks if I have a pen - I have a pencil, so I hand him that. He takes out a book, signs the title page, and gives it to us [2]. It turns out he's a local poet, and he left us a book; he's in his 90s and fled Nazi Germany in the 30's. Somehow, we chanced upon him and he blessed our lives. There's a lot of things to dislike about the Bay Area, but there's a lot of good stuff that happens, especially in the East Bay.

[1]I say older, but it turns out he was in his 90s.
[2]I really wish I'd handed him my pen, but I had no idea he was going to sign something.