A friend of a friend was mugged last weekend on the train at 16th and Mission. And by “mugged” I mean a dude grabbed her iPhone out of her hand in broad daylight. Since it was the new 3GS, she went after him and was helped by three nearby guys who picked up the trail and tackled the offender. And by “guys” I mean gay men in town for Pride, one of whom, while sitting on the mugger, said, “You picked the wrong gay weekend, my friend.”
Now I can’t stop saying that. It’s a handy phrase. Try it with me, “I guess I picked the wrong gay weekend to stop sniffing glue.” See? It’s an all-purpose, cheerful addition to any bad situation.
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