You can’t set your watch by it, but it always happens. Sometime between seven and eight o’clock there is a shift and suddenly people are everywhere. The desolate streets of early morning joggers and day traders give way to sedan-clad commuters heading for the east bay, coffee-sipping secretaries in a-line skirts, elderly people at the bus stop, double parked delivery trucks, people on phones walking against the green, bike messengers flying through downtown, every one of them in a hurry. The City pulses and honks and breathes to life as I watch from the driver’s seat, wading through the madness of traffic and sound in search of anyone with an outstretched arm.