I walked through San Francisco’s Tenderloin district exactly one time. In that isolated saunter, I saw a woman inject a man in his heel with a substance I did not care to identify and witnessed what could only have been (given my extensive training watching Starsky and Hutch) a prostitute turning over her earnings to her pimp. A friend of mine who works on Union Square confirmed that I had almost certainly seen what I thought I had seen. At noon on a Tuesday.