Activity

a palimpsest in which a certain dream of ease and affluence was painting itself over a complicated tableau of working-­class struggle, certain groups’ stories held up as emblematic

Four or five nights later I would find myself shivering on the back patio of a bar in Potrero Hill, soaked through with summer drizzle, huddling under a burner while the few people I knew in town caroused at a nearby table. Two jockish strangers, thinking me drunk and alone, started to hassle me. “…

Had you asked me then why I chose this place over other metropolises, other places that might ensorcell a restless, bored, and keenly adventurous teenager

We were all doomed, really, doomed without knowing it. We were like a species of an animal that was so comfortable in our habitat that we didn’t quite realize we would soon be hunted to extinc- tion. We drank at the 500 Club when it was an actual dive bar and not just marketed as a dive bar, blind …