"If I have to pull this car over…"

We all laughed. Branch, Michael, Chris, Ron and I were on our way to Fisherman's Wharf to terrorize the tourists. It was a beautiful summer day, 1991. Ron was driving. He was the "daddy" and Chris was the "mommy" and Branch, Michael and I were the kids in the back seat. We were all in leather.

Ron thought it was a riot being in a car full of bottoms. I always called San Francisco "Land of the Living Bottoms," and it certainly seemed that the proportion was way off. If our carload was a typical cross-section of fags, then it was 4 to 1 bottoms. Of course, in reality, many self-respecting gay men would have to admit to being bisexual – liking men and boys.

"Are we almost there yet, Daddy?" Branch intoned with childlike glee.

He was really a big kid. Well, we all were, especially that day. Good weather, good friends, and plenty of mischief to get into with all those tourists!

"You boys are gonna drive your daddy nuts." Ron scowled in the rearview mirror, pretending to be angry.

"Daddy's nuts, daddy's nuts, the cock-ring fell off daddy's nuts," Branch was singing, flailing his head about like Regan in The Exorcist.

"Daddy make him stop!" I played along.

"I'm gonna stop this car and get my belt off…"

"Oh YES Daddy, please sir, me first!" Branch was incorrigible.

We finally arrived at Fisherman's Wharf. Parking was insane, so we opted for the rip-off tourist parking garage, which only charged an astronomical hourly rate, rather than worry about a parking meter. People were everywhere, going in every direction, baby strollers, roller-skaters – it was a psychic circus.

Branch went strutting ahead immediately, spit-polished army boots shining in the sun, fresh flat-top, army green T-shirt and leather motorcycle jacket, cocky as a James Dean impersonator. I knew he was up for naughtiness today. It occurred to me that he was the same age as my little brother, the one I helped raise. I remembered how I used to hold him as an infant, lengthwise in my lap. Funny how Branch could've been my little brother. He always called me his "little sister," even though I was twelve years his senior. That's because I came into AA later than he did, and we originally had the same sponsor. I let him call me that. It gave him such satisfaction to have a protégé, for sobriety as well as for the leather scene. He loved to tell me how to dress, what was proper for a leatherboy to wear, what all the hanky colors meant, what the rules of bondage were. "You never wear white tennis shoes with a black leather jacket, and never let someone tie you up at your own apartment – they could leave you there and no one would ever find you."

Branch had been around the scene for a while, even for his tender age. Once Muffy (Michael) had gone to the Campus Theatre to watch a porn movie, and he heard the voice of this one really young character, looked closer and realized it was Branch at about age 17! He thought he would die. "Oh my god, I'm beating off to my sister!"

When we got over to the Wharf area Branch came running up with Mrs. Fields cookies for everyone.

"How did you get those, the line was out the door?" I asked.

"Oh I have my ways."

He pulled out a small canister and sprayed it near my face.

"Oh my god, it's fart spray! Where did you get that?"

"At a little novelty shop over there." He was so self-satisfied.

"So what did you do?"

"I just went into the crowded cookie store and sprayed it behind my back. People left in droves and I went up and ordered the cookies." He was grinning.

Later we wanted to watch this cool mime show, but there were way too many people around and we couldn't get close enough. Branch ran up to a baby stroller and discreetly bent down near it. Then he came back over.

"What was that you dropped?"

"Oh, just a little of this liquid." He opened a small bottle and put it toward my nose.

"Oh jeezus! What the hell is that?" I jerked my head away.

"Essence of Sewage."

We watched as the crowd began dispersing in all directions around the baby stroller, and the mother was checking the kid's diaper. We could now see the mime show perfectly.

The rest of the afternoon was just as crazy. A couple of times we'd catch a glimpse of a mother pulling her child back as we'd go past, as if we would somehow contaminate them. But all in all, it was a great time. They had their families and we had ours. I had never really felt more of a sense of group closeness than I did with these guys. My wonderful, insane family. I loved them. I'd do just about anything for any of them. And in the back of my mind, I knew that most of them probably wouldn't be around within a couple of years.

After the Wharf, we all went for an Italian dinner and espresso drinks over on Columbus Street. Caffeine was our drug of choice, and even though we'd start to slow down a little from the food, a double mocha would always get us revved up for more. On the way home, Branch opened the sewage bottle in the car and we all had to roll down the windows and freeze to death. Bless his pointed little head.