I was hooked. I sat and read every single thing that Mike W. had written, making a vow to visit every bar that he liked. Josephine Tey wrote about finding two long-lost bastards, and I had found my very own lovable bastard right here in S.F. I knew what was next. I had to actually seek out Mike W. and have him take me around. But first, I must sleep. And drink plenty of nonalcoholic fluids.