You're sitting where a man had his last drink.

Was what a man with long black hair told me after I walked into a bar called Dirty Thieves, sat down, and ordered a drink.

The man's name was, crap I forgot, and he was a professional Tango dancer who loved to share a good story. Here's the story he told me.

Back when Hell's Angels ruled San Francisco, this was their hang out.  Harley's were parked down the entire street for a block.  Everyone knew better than to fuck with 'em ya know? This was their place and no-one could take it from 'em.  Well, when you say you're the king, you get a war.

The Mongols were a rival biker gang.  One day, the leader of The Mongols walked in here, sat his ass down right where you're sitting now, and ordered a beer.  He got one sip in before a fist found his face.  His ass got the piss pounded out of it by Hell's Angels. But they weren't done.

They dragged him outside, bloody mess he was, and took him a block away where everyone in the bar heard two gunshots.  Three men left, two came back and kept drinking on the missing man's tab.

This is the bar. This is Dirty Thieves.