How could I not love a boy who would willingly spend a Saturday afternoon driving me around so I could take pictures of old supermarkets in Sacramento? It was a good weekend; we ransacked a dying Kmart, hit thrift stores, and ate well on Saturday and then spent Sunday together in the front room playing with our databases (with the shades open so the neighbors could see)…
The only down side was when I tried to introduce Mark to the joys of jerk pork Saturday afternoon. We strolled into a place on Broadway in Sacramento which turned out to be from hell. Anyone know a really kick-ass Jamaican place in San Francisco so I can try again?
