MESHUGGANAH! GIDGET WAS ALMOST MY SHVIGER!

I arrived in San Francisco in early 1991 and didn't know a soul except Mark Renneker, aka Jesus of Taraval, and a nice but droning surfboard fetishist named George Orbelian, neither of whom were going to take me to the clubs, get me drunk, hook me up. Fortunately, a pal of a pal introduced me to a trio of women living in a gorgeous Russian Hill apartment with a west-facing view that I still dream ...

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