"Take my advice: don't do heroine.
Just smoke pot,
and beat off about three times a week."
--Toothless middle-aged man chugging champagne on the Muni.
It's no argument that San Francisco is one of the weirdest places I have ever been. My roommate and I attribute the strange behavior we see to the lack of peer judgement. Everyone is so out there that after a while, you stop listening to the old man screaming "Fuck you all! I'm going to kill you all!" on the Muni and don't bat an eye when a middle-aged drag queen with sequins stuck to her face asks you where she can buy pot. And so life goes on; and people continue limping through the daily races. It should be liberating to know you can do anything (and I mean anything) and not be judged, but it's not; it's heart-achingly lonely.
