Just when I was underestimating my prim hometown, this comes along. It's like tablehopper but with the sass of a people used to underdogs and underestimation. And the total obnoxiousness we *always* give to outsiders.
It's good, because I was starting to think SFers are rude, or at least bizarre in interpersonal relations. Nice to get a reality check from the land of Dunkies.
I'll write more about the orgasmic reception of my napoleon later. I'm trying to pick a patisserie to visit with Laetitia next week for more french pastries--Noe Valley, or Delenghe, or the Italian ones in North Beach or the Mission that make mille feuille anyway...nothing stands out yet, so more research.
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