Neither Here Nor There

I’m moving. To another part of the city.

I like moving. You get to clean the dust off everything, get rid of crap you never use, or haven’t seen for a long time. It’s liberating, yet daunting. However, I’ve realized something, I can’t very well write about living in the Tenderloin, when I don’t, in fact, live in the Tenderloin.

After picking up the keys to my new apartment, the roomies and I wandered the streets of our new neighborhood, getting sucked into a record store at one point. I sat and looked at a free zine on the shelf. It had a quiz about the neighborhood, and as I read the questions, I was perturbed because, I knew none of the answers. I thought about all the other things I didn’t know (about the neighborhood!) for instance, who’s the district supervisor here? What district will I be in? Where’s the post office? Where will I be shopping for groceries?

I’ve let the Tenderloin become a part of my identity; after living here more than 7 years. It may not have been a conscious decision, but it happened none-the-less. I’ve let it sink into me. I’ve defended the neighborhood when people talk shit about it. I’ve chided people from other neighborhoods; certain people from the Marina, or the Mission. I was proud, in a way, to have made a home in the Tenderloin.

I’ve always pictured myself a little rough around the edges, and it made me think I fit in the Tenderloin quite nicely, even though, it truly has been a love-hate relationship. For example, since early January there’s been this overly loud homeless man who comes every morning to solicit the customers at Saigon Sandwich, located directly below my apartment, my apartment with the thin-single-pane-windows. It would have been fine if he was a quite dude. Instead, for hours on end, he’ll scream ‘happy holidays’ literally every two seconds. For HOURS! After a month of this, I began considering ways to get rid of him that  included throwing things: such as water, eggs… a chair. I never did any of these things. It’s just too mean. So, I let him scream at the top of his lungs, thinking to myself…I guess the holidays are here to stay.

The new place has a washer and dryer in the building. Which, I’m crazy stoked about, and you’d know why if you’d read the one about my laundry mat. Let’s just say, I’ve seen some things that I’ll never forget. I won’t miss these things. But, what I will miss, what I’m super sad about, is not seeing the people that work around here. The places I go so regularly, they know me. The even like me! It’s a pleasure to see these people, to have a lil chit chat, to be involved in their life. People I see more often than my own family. The past few years, I’ve even exchanged Christmas gifts with them. The people I’ll miss most are the hard working family at Hiep-Thanh Market. Love that store. The Mom always gives me my favorite holiday candy, the one in the red wrapper that’s only available at one time during the year, she knows I like them, and saves some for me! And of course Eli, who owned Fox liquors. My corner market. I say owned because he just recently sold the place after working in the neighborhood for 25 years. He’s great. Always hard at work, always knew everything that’s happening. He’s on to new and better things, a little vacation/family time before he’s too old to enjoy it.

I look around my apartment and remember moving in, and into the city. It was my first apartment in San Francisco, my first neighborhood. I thought, this place is crazy! My boyfriend and I came with only a truck load of stuff. An ironing board used to fill our living room in those early days. We used to spread out kitchen towels on the living room floor when we ate dinner. These are good memories, and the crazy shit that went down gave me life long memories, bad and good.

Moving to a new neighborhood is changing the way I see myself, already. I’m the new kid on the block. The new neighborhood has such a defined culture, I don’t know yet how I’ll fit in. And it looks like I gotta get a new blog, something different, cause people are already writing about this one. This blog was my baby for a little over a year, and no lie, I’m going to miss working on it. There are so many people living and working in the Tenderloin, and places to visit, that I haven’t gotten the chance to write about. But they’ll still be here. It’s me who’s moving out, and on.

I’m a girl on the move. And this time; there’s a Uhaul involved.

Updates!

Dotties True Blue Cafe:

Has moved from it's Jones Street location over to 6th, between Market and Mission. Went there five days after it had reopened, and I'm sad to say the food wasn't what it used to be. The scramble was undercooked, and my potatoes were not crispy. But my pancake, that I shouldn't have ordered, because it was WAY too much food, was delicious! The space was super cute, brick walls, hardwood floors, kinda reminded me of restaurants in Portland. They even had bathrooms! I'll be back though, gotta give it the benefit of the doubt. I'm sad to see them move out of the Tenderloin, they were a bright breakfast beacon in the heart of a troubled neighborhood. But, business is boomin', so they moved out of their tiny spot, and employed a bunch of new people that seemed nice. I can only hope that the food will be awesome once again.



My Planned Parenthood on Eddy, between Van Ness and Franklin, has closed its doors:

No warning to me, or any of its vast numbers of patients. Seven years I've been going there, and all my information GONE, as far as I know. So, I'm dealing with the ONLY other Planned Parenthood that seems to exist in San Francisco. I called and got the run around, and because I'm a procrastinator, I've almost run out of my birth control pills, and I'm facing a dilemma...gotta get more, ASAP.

I was told to go to a drop-in clinic. I got there at 8:30am, as it said online that they would be open then. When I arrived, I was informed that the clinic doesn't open until 10. I was given no more information than that, so I left and came back at 10.

When I arrived for the second time there were a bunch of girls sitting in the lobby.. I was then told that they only see eight people, and there were already eight people signed up, but if I'd like to wait, there may be an opening later in the afternoon, but most likely I wouldn't be seen. I was blind with rage. I've only been given the least amount of information at every turn. I told the receptionist, that, I would have waited when I first arrived if I had known this was going to happen. She only repeated herself. She didn't apologize for her mistake, or make any effort to rectify the situation. I found out today, this is what it's like in free-clinic-land in San Francisco. No bueno.

As I left, I was crazy angry and frustrated, not only upset with the unhelpful receptionist, upset with myself as well. For not having insurance, for not having a job that offers me insurance, for not having a regular doctor, and for waiting until after the new year to take care of my business.

I had a sweet setup at Planned Parenthood Golden Gate. And I for one am sad to see that they're gone.

After a lame day like today, only awesome can help:



Cops on horsey's! Yay!

The Bees Knees

It's the new year, and I've been watching a lot of Mad Men, at home, hence the title, trying not to leave the house, because leaving my house, means spending money. And my New Years resolution (which usually means January, sometimes February resolution) is to NOT spend a ton of money.

My solution to my resolution is to shop at Goodwill on Geary, between Larkin and Hyde. It takes time to find quality items here. A few good things about shopping at Goodwill is A. The hunt. Having to really search, makes it feel like I've done a lot of shopping, and B. It's super cheap. C. Since it's in the Tenderloin, this Goodwill comes with free entertainment! I was in the store for maybe an hour and I got to watch as the employees hunted down, and kicked out, three different people! Plus, if your New Years resolution is out with the old, you can donate it here. Look what I found:

The blouse was on sale for $2.50. The gray sweater was $3.50. The blue sweater and boots were $8.50 each. Not bad!

After the treasure hunt, I suggest heading over to Mid City market, toward Larkin, on Geary, only a few steps away from Goodwill. After entering, head left to the freezer sitting in front of the taco shop. Palettas! Frozen fruit bars await you. Only a dollar each, and crazy good. In strawberry, mango, watermelon, cookies and cream, coconut, cafe, and even bubble gum.

An Early Christmas Present

Walking to the grocery store I thought to myself, it's been awhile since I've seen anything horrifically gross, or morbidly disgusting; granted, I was on vacation for a week and a half, and that may have been a contributing factor for the lull. However, I've regretted having that moment of reflection since it's inception, because while I was arriving at that pleasant thought, I was simultaneously happening upon a man who was self-inducing his gag reflex, and vomiting everywhere. On himself, his pants, and the ground.... right in front of me. As the smell wafted to my nostrils, I made a vow to never again think such pleasant thoughts about the Tenderloin while in the Tenderloin.

Supporting Local Artists

Last night on Geary and Jones. First, at Public Barber Salon, a few artists producing work in the Tenderloin made a calendar. Twenty bucks buys you months worth of artists juxtaposed with their art. The art will be up until January 16, 2012.








Then, around the corner at Kare-Ken.



A Japanese style curry restaurant. Open less than a month, about ten seats fit in this pop-up style restaurant. Upon sitting down, my party and I were greeted by a nice guy. With a limited menu, it was still difficult to make a selection, everything looked good. We ordered the shrimp tempura curry, dry-beef curry, and chicken-katsu curry. Every order we placed was greeted with a modifier, such as the shrimp is breaded tempura style. When the shrimp did arrive, it was more heavily breaded than "tempura" would suggest. And, they weren't serving the meatball curry that was on the menu, due to the consistency not being up to par. The green tea is cold, not hot, as I assumed, so I ordered sprite instead.

Everything is served to go style, with plastic forks and knives. With such a limited staff, there's probably a method to this madness, on account, they don't want to be doing dishes throughout the shift. Hopefully, when they start making money, they'll invest in some dishes, and someone will wash them. We are in San Francisco after-all. People will, and should, recycle their containers until then.





The art was good, and some of it, I really liked. My chicken-katsu curry was also good. I ordered the sauce mild. It was savory-sweet, not unlike pumpkin, which is perfect for this time of year. It's time the Tenderloin take its medicine: An infusion of young talent, producing good work.

I had fun tonight, and the best part was: I didn't even have to leave my neighborhood.

What WhhhhATttt Lers Ros?

I don't understand what this sign says, they tell me the restaurant's called Lers Ros, but it doesn't really matter when I sit down to eat here. What I do know, is that I love Lers Ros. They know me, I’m a regular here. When I pass the servers on the street that know me, we smile and wave. You can find it on Larkin between Ellis and O‘farrell. Before Lers Ros, I had been going two extra blocks to Thai House Express to get me some yum yums. My staple there was Pad See-Ew, pan-fried flat noodles with chicken and broccoli. I was a regular there too.

But it all changed when Lers Ros opened. My go to, have-to-have, the pork belly (#62), crispy on the outside, spicy and delicious. Lers Ros, made me okay with spicy, made me need spicy.

The Pork Belly



The Raw Prawns Salad



One of my favorites, is in the salad section of the menu, (# 15) raw prawns in lime dressing with chilies, mint and lime dressing. They also have whole sea bass (# 112) in lime juice with chopped chilies. The menu is so extensive, I haven’t even scratched the surface. Other items include, fried garlic frog appetizer, great beef, pork and chicken dishes, as well as, curries, soups and plenty of rice and veggie plates.

Open 11am-midnight.

But, it’s not over. One day, not too long ago, I’m walking along, headed to Hayes Valley, criss-crossing along the way, and what do I see…deception!



WHhhhhhhAAaaaatttt is THIS?! Lers Ros in Hayes Valley! No way! It can’t be true. I’m sad and confused. I feel betrayed!

I've come to an uneasy understanding: It was bound to happen, with such awesome food. It must expand to accommodate its hungry guests. Let’s just hope that Hayes Valley appreciates you as much as we do. Just don’t leave the TL, we will always need your delicious spicy food in our bellies.

The Latest in Pooh News

Deet, deet, deet, deet, deet, deet...this just in...Pooplets! Check it out. This is big, this is huge.

The city wants to install single occupancy toilets around the neighborhood in order to prevent people from poohing on the street. I'm all for that. However, they're probably going to be translucent, which means people passing by can see your silhouette. This is to prevent drug use in the pooplet. I'm conflicted. Seeing a silhouette poohing, would be better than seeing the real thing in action. But, what person, who isn't homeless, is going to use this kind of bathroom. As stated in the article, they suggest that because of the upcoming San Francisco's hosting of the America's Cup, that these bathrooms would benefit the large number of people the city will be seeing, as well as, the homeless. Maybe if they're desperate. So, if it's not good enough for anyone, are they in turn, acceptable for the homeless to use? Also, who's going to maintain these tiny toilets? It remains to be seen. Huffintongpost reports that we may be seeing some trial runs next spring. Read the full article here.

Larkin and Eddy Turns One

It's been a year since the first post. Here are some of my favorites. I hope you like 'em too.

We’re from Australia: It’s the first one. It's the story that made me want to start telling other people about the shit I’ve seen/heard/experienced while living in the Tenderloin. Poopy Here Poopy There Poopy Everywhere: Keyword search term that directed someone to my blog recently, "human poop blog San Francisco." Awesome! Hookers: Who doesn't like chocolate. Pork and Pickles: Where my two favorite past times, eating and blogging, collide! Lots-o-drugs. I Plan to be Naked by Lunch: About my crazy laundry mat. Friends have told me that it's funny. Abusive Relationships: It’s a crazy story, just like this neighborhood. Edited this, and took it on the open road, all the way up the street to Amsterdam Cafe (really a bar) to my friend’s open mic night. It got a good response. Possibly more open mic’s in my future.

Also, The Giants are the World Champions and the City Celebrates with You!!: This was a really fun night. The city was electric that night last year. So much so, I was literally pulled to the Civic Center by the excitement. I'm glad I brought the camera with me. This has been one of the most popular posts to date. It's a bummer that we won't be able to recreate the awesomeness of an impromptu city-wide partay this year, but who knows, there's always next season! Of course, everyone's wondering will he, or won't he, shave the beard, here's your answer, for now:



My personal feelings on this is that the beard has become sentient. He can't get rid of it now, it has a mind of its own, Wilson even admits it by saying, "It does what it wants."

Thanks for reading!

I Ain't Your Tina Marie

From home to downtown, the quickest route is usually a straight line. Straight down Eddy, and into the heart of the TL. I turn the corner and walk the six blocks...

Broken arm.
Eyebrows penciled in. Your forehead has been consumed by them. Faded to grey, just like you. The Joker now.
“Damn girl, girl, girl.”
Sometimes music will accompany me on this walk, but not today.
You were sitting on a doorstep as I passed. “Hey, Tina Marie, TINA MARIE.”
I keep walking.
You were being handcuffed on Eddy and Mason. At every corner, people turned their heads to watch. I didn’t cross the street like I usually do.
Gotta keep moving; don’t linger, don’t make eye contact, head up, eyes to the front, show no fear…
I don’t want to shake your hand.
Some kind of freaky Disneyland ride, keep your arms, and hands, in the vehicle at all times.
“Do you have fifty cents?”
Well, to tell you the truth, I do have 50 cents, but I told you no, because what you really wanted to know is if I’ll give it to you.

From downtown to home, probably repeat this in a few hours, unless it gets dark… then I’ll take O’farrell or Geary.

Me and Thomas Oliver Larkin

Thomas Oliver Larkin (1802-1858)

A bootstraps kind of history lesson...

I was in need of a guidebook for California. Needed this book for a last minute trip down Highway 1 this past July. I wanted to peruse it along the way to find anything interesting, or quirky, to do or see, and something caught my eye…

Larkin House in Monterey.

I live on Larkin street! So, on the way home, after a beautiful drive down the coast, we (the boyfriend, and myself) went to investigate. There would be no tours available, no explanations about what we were seeing by a tour guide, but the guidebook did say you could roam the grounds, and peek in the windows.

After lunch, we wandered over to Larkin House, which was built in 1835, commissioned by Larkin for his wife, Rachel. It’s said to be the first two story home built in California. It was kind of eerie with no one else around. We didn’t linger long, since the guidebook told me little about the man. After roaming the grounds, and peeking through windows, at a house he built, with adornments he owned, my interests were peeked, I had to know more.

I did a little reading, and this is some of the information about Thomas Oliver Larkin’s life that I found particularly interesting…

He arrived in California destitute, after traveling from the East coast in 1832; before the Panama Canal was open, which means, his journey would have been at least six months long, in order to help his cousin with his business. Larkin was in search of a new beginning in what was a foreign land. He met his soon-to-be wife on the boat, the only other passenger on the trip. She was traveling to meet up with her estranged husband. While on the trip, he got her pregnant! But, she had no need to fret, after arriving in California, she found out later that her husband had died. Oh happy day! She was free to be with Larkin, and they were eventually married.

He was a busy bee, besides his romance with Rachel, his business ventures in merchandising and real estate were paying off. Also, as his epitaph boasts, Larkin was involved in California’s statehood. He had been appointed the first and only U.S consul to California from 1844 to 1846. He received messages from the president at the time, James Polk, on the matter. The question of whether or not America should have acquired California from Mexico is a sticky subject, to say the least; however, Larkin was involved, even being captured by the opposition at one point. After the acquisition, he was apart of the first convention to frame California’s Constitution in 1849. Names like: Larkin, Stockton, Sloat, Fremont, only known to us now as a street name, boulevard, or a city, were all involved in early California history, and in turn, the shaping of America.

Thomas O Larkin intrigues me. I find it interesting how he, a poor man, came to California, and was eventually receiving messages from the President, on such an important issue. He owned crap loads of land, and helped found the city of Benicia. He had business ties in San Francisco, and in 1850 built the first brick building here, that still stands today, at 1116 Stockton Street, in Chinatown. Pictured here:

It’s such a classic pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps kind of story. The kind of story you might have heard in elementary school. At the time of Larkin’s death in 1858, he was estimated to be the wealthiest man in America.

Once buried in San Francisco, he was moved to Cypress Lawn Memorial Park in Colma, “The City of the Silent,” is where he now rests. I didn’t grow up in California, but learning about this slice of San Francisco, has motivated me to do some more digging. Now, when I think of Larkin street, I don’t just see the name of the street I live on, it’s so much more, it’s a person, a life lived, it’s a part of history. And mine too.



*Sidenote: This is a map of Colma, the nickname, so I found out is, “The City of the Silent,” because there are all kinds of cemeteries, with tons on dead people there. Kinda creepy. So, as I’m looking for a new apartment, I can tell you this for certain, Colma, will not be my next home, now, or anytime in the future. Here’s a map of the area surrounding where Larkin is buried:

If You Are Coming to the Tenderloin...

Wear a flower in your hair, and bring money to park your car in a parking garage.



My sister came to visit recently, since she was driving, I reminded her that she needed to have a place to park her car while she was here. On other visits, both my sister, and a friend, had their cars broken into while staying with me. I will never let anyone with a car park it on the street overnight ever again. It’s way too easy for people to break into cars without any retribution. The sad part is the most expensive damage done is to the window. My sister, and my friend, didn't have anything expensive in their cars, but a common thread, is they both have Oregon license plates.

In my sister’s case, she had a bag of food on the backseat that she forgot to bring in, and the bandit decided it might contain something awesome. She told me later that she heard her car alarm sound, and as she peered outside, and noticed someone rummaging around in her car. As I slept soundly, she bolted off the couch, out the door, down the stairs, and across the street to yank the person from her car. She yelled at the guy to get the fuck out of her car, and he retorted by claiming that he wasn’t the one who had done the damage.

She relayed the story to me in the morning. I, being the older, more protective sister, came up with scary scenarios like: what if he had a gun, or knife. For some reason, I always picture knives as being the worse weapon. I make the assumption that criminals may be more inclined to use a knife than a gun. Regardless, I wasn’t happy she had gone out there alone, super late, and with no shoes on! I would have been like, cool, someone’s in my car, he can have that bag of food. But, my sister had just gotten out of the coast guard, which means, she’s already kind of a bad-ass.

Her visit this time was a good one, it's always really nice to see her. And no break-ins!

San Francisco Favela

There's a shanty town across the street right now.



My Mom had bipolar disorder. There was a year when I didn’t see her. I couldn’t handle it. I let her drop out of my world, and into oblivion. She refused to take the medication she was required to take, and would, on occasion slip into, what I referred to as, ‘an episode’.

I got my Mom committed once. My Dad and I had to sign papers to get her taken in. There had been an altercation where she had brandished a knife at someone. It was enough to get her held for the weekend, but the man she had ‘attacked’ couldn’t come forward to testify, something to do with the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be in the state. It’s almost like me and the TL are a perfect fit. I grew up with this crazy shit. After the weekend was up, they had to release her. To be able to keep her, they had to prove that she was a danger to herself or others. I was pissed, because clearly, she was a danger to herself, and others. I wanted my Mom to be safe. I wanted others to be safe. But because of the laws in place, she had rights. She had rights about her medication and housing. Rights, that I believe, often prevent people from actually getting the help they need. She was often homeless. I would argue, that it is a danger to someone’s health to be in a constant state of homelessness… It’s a fucking problem.

And it’s a huge problem in the Tenderloin. These people do drugs, sleep on the sidewalks, in all kinds of weather, eat from trash cans, and often walk around the street with no shoes on. All the homeless people I’ve seen throughout the years, the ones I know I’ve seen before, they visibly deteriorate. Most of the people that ‘live’ on the streets here are fixtures in this community, and have been here longer than I have. They have their own community. They’ve created a counter culture for themselves; we don’t know them, but they know each other.

But, it’s the homeless women that pull at my heart strings the most. I wonder about their families, and if they have anyone, and if so, where are they. I wonder if they’ve eaten today. Most often they are panhandling, but I don’t give them money, there‘s just too many of them.

These people need a new place to rest their heads besides the sidewalk. It’s time the streets stop being their home. It’s time we stop letting them live on the streets. Not just because people want to charge more for rent here, not just because if we clean up our act, new businesses will open here. Not just for gentrification. But because, it’s the right thing to do.

Turk and Larkin Deli

Lunchie Munchie time rolls around at some point everyday. I don’t like to make food when it’s only me, plus it’s easy to get something to eat around here, since there are tons of restaurants. I was being super lazy when the show, Check Please Bay Area, came on KQED, my PBS station, one afternoon. Side note: I heart PBS. If you haven’t seen the show, there’s a host that interviews three people who recommend their favorite restaurants, and the other two eat, and report back. Turk and Larkin Deli was on this particular episode, recommended as a good place for lunch by one of the ladies who works in the area. Only a block away from my house, and I had no idea it existed.

After the segment was over, I decided I would check it out, and report back. Upon arrival, I noticed that it was aptly named, Deli. I’ve never been to New York, a wrong I plan to correct in the near future, but this is what I imagine a NY deli to be like. Fake wood paneling on the walls. Lunch trays. A drab 70’s feel emanates from the décor. I ordered the roast chicken combo, which included 2 sides. I picked the pesto pasta salad with peas and carrots, and a Greek salad. I also got a chocolate chip cookie, and a coke, to top off my order. The cute older couple who own and run the place are friendly. The chicken was moist, while slightly spicy, with a paprika/herb rub. The chicken, and both salads, were tasty.

One of the guys on the show said it is a very scary neighborhood, and he was afraid for his safety! He may not want to return, but I’ll be back. I always say, I’d rather be around a bunch of crazies, than no one at all. The deli is open for lunch Monday through Friday.



Watch the segment here if you want, but skip to 6:52, TL represent!

Initiation

The ceiling creaks as someone moves in upstairs. Someone else has moved in recently too, my boyfriend’s sister. Now, empty pbr cans litter our living room and kitchen. The new addition to our household has told us that her sleep has been restless. I suggest she maybe invest in earplugs, or another viable option, we’ve joked, drink more, a lot more, before bed.

The jingle jangle of the ice cream man.
Sirens.
The bus.
The neighbors hang a picture.
Midday- A woman yells ‘fuck’ a hundred times in a row.
The click-clack of the siblings on their laptops playing tetris with each other, while sitting right next to one another.

We take his sister out. I realize the man ahead of us is peeing while he's walking down the street, leaving a squiggly trail. Talk about multitasking! The people passing in the opposite direction act as if he doesn’t exist. They don’t see him. Blank shells, staring at the ground, in their own world. I turn to my compatriots, “Oh My fucking God!” “Don’t step in that (I‘m pointing), he’s peeing while he’s walking down the street!” I’m visibly loosing my shit, my mouth gaping open, while these people coming at us look like they’ve had their brains sucked out of their heads...Zombpees.

You would think that I’m immune, by now, to happenings such as this. What surprises me about this instance, in particular, is that people like this dude in front of me, actually do things like this. Who the fuck are you to whip out your penis wherever the fuck you are? When, a few steps later, he enters a building, where I suspect, there’s a toilet he could have used. But no, he’d rather expose himself to everyone, and pee on the sidewalk. Needless to say, if you think you smell urine, you do. Many thanks you weren’t there when it was happening.

When I think I’ve seen it all, I‘m always surprised with a new little treat. I try not to step in the runoff, my boots are new.

Welcome to the TL little sis!

Street Art Captured

Before:


After:








Super creepy baby, but I love it!

Sunday FunDay

Sunday fun fact: I love to check my stats!

I don't have too many. Sometimes I'll have a good amount of page views, and some nice comments. Which I love. I'm hoping to have lots more in the future. (Hint, hint! A wink and a nudge!) My stats tell me where people are in the world when they see the blog. Some views from here and there, mostly from the U.S. however; randomly, I'm big in Russia from time to time. My sneaking suspicion is they like my blog, Don't Blame It On the Vomit, where the white dudes disrobe and brawl in the street. I can see what browser is most popular, Firefox, Internet Explorer, in that order, or check the operating system that people use most often, Windows, Machintoch.

But I'll have to say, it's always the keyword search terms that make me laugh. Here are a few that are referring people to my blog:

i have super curly hair and big lips but i'm not black

when your man prefers texting to calling when he can afford (Afford what exactly? Can he really afford it, or does he just look like he can? These are the hard hitting question this woman needs to ask herself. The rest is missing, so we may never know!)

street signs in san francisco featuring no human pooping (Great idea!)

just realized i am in an abusive relationship (The internet can help!)

i hear gunshots (Ruuuuun! Get your ass outta there!)

dollar stores near larkin & eddy (What, where? I'm so there.)

"san francisco" beautiful grubby (It's true.)

And theeeeennn the kinksters end up on the wrong site. Sorry guys. What they’re looking for: tranny prostitutes and poop!

Thanks stats for all the good times.

A Day In The Tenderloin

Photography by my good friend Chelsea Rae Cole. More pics by Chelsea can be found at her flickr page here.