One of my favorite spots in San Francisco is just visible in this photo: Fort Point, an old brick fortress nestled under the west end of the Golden Gate Bridge. Good place to feel a clean, cold wind off the Pacific.
Natalie took this snapshot back in happier times, before she dumped me for that depressed artist who smoked too much. I guess that made him profound. Bitter? Who, me? Nah. Just self-piteous.
My roomie Greg accuses me of being too picky, but then even he gets quiet when I mention the blind dates he's set up for me. Like the last one, that weightlifter. Nice girl, especially if you're into Greco-Roman wrestling.
go to Chapter 1