Pete had sprained his ankle performing ill-advised feats of strength and agility in order to impress a pretty lady. Jordan had not yet grown his beard. Their was another person with us, mild mannered, jovial. I can't remember his name, but it was probably Ben.
I was oblivious to their intentions until we boarded the 22 Fillmore at 16th and Mission. It was Monday, an Indian summer's late afternoon. Pete had bought tickets to the Spoon show at the Fillmore. It turns out dancing on crutches is not all that difficult. Thanks guys. Thanks 22 Fillmore.
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