By Craigory Sparks That day came Wednesday. The day I always knew would come. The day when I would arrive at that giant glass door to the office high rise in the Financial District of San Francisco. That office high rise full of J. Crew bros and SoulCycle girls mucking

Sutter Station doesn’t give a fuck. In fact it has been steadfastly sitting on Market Street, not giving fucks since 1969. That’s before BART existed, before Tales of the City came out, and before the Beatles broke-up.

As 2024 winds down, we’re reflecting on another incredible year of sharing the stories, art, culture, and nightlife that make the Bay Area so unique. BrokeAssStuart.com wouldn’t be what it is without you—our community of readers, supporters, and believers in independent media. This year, instead of asking you to join Patreon

Every week we feature a different person from the community shedding a little light on their life of brokeitude. Who knows, maybe you’ll learn something about the human spirit — probably not.