knitting and nipple clamps

I was sitting at a cafe with my herbal tea and my knitting. A picture of quiet propriety that might well fit into Jane Marple's St. Mary Mead. An extremely handsome man and woman, some ten years younger than I, sat at the next table. He asked me if I was from the neighborhood or just visiting. I'm from across the bay, I said, but I know the neighborhood reasonably well. Can I help you? Well, we want to know if this area is more friendly to women or to men. Hm, I thought. What???

Choosing my words carefully, I said that I thought perhaps they might be confusing the area with the nearby Castro. The Castro, I said, was the traditionally gay area of San Francisco, but really was quite friendly to everyone. I thought they'd be comfortable walking around together.

Oh, he said, we're walking down the street with a riding crop sticking out of a Good Vibrations bag, so we're quite comfortable. That wasn't really the problem. They were visiting from Pennsylvania and they were looking for something and they couldn't find it. Perhaps I could help.

I'd try, of course. What were they looking for?

A store where they could buy nipple clamps.

I see. (And you chose to ask me ... why exactly?) But you were just at Good Vibrations ...?

They were really too female-friendly.

(I'm just a friend of Jane Marple's, sitting here in the late afternoon sun with my knitting and my tea ...)

Now I wish I could end the story here, with me giving a helpless little smile ... but when you've been brought up to be helpful, and you've passed a certain store every week for years, you really do have to help the tourists. Especially when they're walking down the street with a riding crop.

Simile of the day: "Like a bird on a wire, like a drunk in a midnight choir, I have tried in my way to be free." - Leonard Cohen