It's not an attractive block, the stretch of St. John Street
from the railway bridge to the Dogfish Cafe. It contains many things
you might want and some you might wish to avoid. You could cash a check
here, even if you didn't have a bank account, or wire money to pay your
overdue light bill. You might acquire a donut, or a cheeseburger, or a
greasy piece of pizza or some atrocious Chinese food. You could
certainly have your tires rotated. If you had no other place to sleep,
you could pitch your tent in the narrow space between the bank of the
raised trestle and the fence marking the McDonald's property line. If
you did camp there, you might spend the night uneventfully. Or if you
were less fortunate, your friend might swing his backpack full of
bottles at your head, and he and his girlfriend might be too drunk to
notice you were bleeding out during the night.
It's not an attractive block.