Why I love Brooklyn…

…and why I had to leave



And just in case you are wondering, good fences DO make good neighbors. Even in the people’s paradise of San Francisco.


About WSW

Writer, wife, mother. Toiler in the bottomless, black, soul-sucking coal mine of domestic life. Thank God for the portable bar.

Posted on June 17, 2014, in Life and times and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 8 Comments.

  1. I’m guessing this is your neighbor, Wendy? (And what kind of dog do you have?)

    In an attempt to beef up my drinking skills for our dive bar rendezvous – which I’m sure is on the horizon, as long as I remember SF is somewhere south of where I’m at – I’ve attempted to find the best dive bar in Idaho. However, it appears that I need a gun, an oxygen tank and a drainage bag to fit in with the locals. People also look down on Prius drivers. When you get a chance, please do send me a bottle of something that doesn’t taste like it’s been drained through an old pair of your pantyhose.

    You Think You’re Having a Hard Time Adjusting, Think Again.

    • IDAHO? What the fuck are you doing there????

      I’m actually adjusting pretty well, due in large part to the abundance of dive bars in San Fran. You’ve got to love a town with this many low rent watering holes. Witness Sinbad’s, the Red Jack and the Voodoo Lounge, which are just a few of the joints I have yet to be thrown out of despite some truly epic misbehavior.

      Move south, young Susan, move south.

      You did say Idaho?

  2. Thanks for always putting a smile on my face when reading your post!

    Susan from Brooklyn

  3. Can I borrow that second sign?

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