Laura lived in San Francisco and came over to write a piece on the Gay Pride. I won’t bore you with all the details, but Ellen, a lesbian friend of mine, introduced me to Her and asked me if Laura could stay at my place for a couple of days. That was no problem whatsoever, because Laura was a lovely person. We talked for hours, as if we’d known each other for years. One morning we had a funny argument about something and I teased Her a bit. She grabbed – and almost dislocated – my fingers and I screamed down on my knees. She pushed me backwards and I ended up on my belly. She grabbed my arms, forced them on my back and planted Her knees on my wrists. The pain was excruciating! I wanted to tap out, but I had no arms left to tap with. “Now we’ll wait for Ellen,” She said. I wailed: “But that will take hours!” She grinned: “I know.” I couldn’t move a finger and I begged Her to let me go. To no avail. Man, I love San Francisco.