Nothing quite like downing a bottle of authentic single malt Scotch while enduring a brutally cold San Francisco rooftop chill in the Mission. Evelyn and I weathered such conditions a few weeks back and in the lucid state that only Scotch can provide we decided to venture forth in search of grease soaked diner food at the Video Cafe. We ate steak and eggs and watched Quantum of Solace while surrounded by San Francisco’s finest.
The excursion ended with me downing a strip of bacon slathered in butter and dipped in maple syrup. Actually the evening ended the next morning when I awoke with cold sweats and a deep thirst for coca-cola.
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