The Duke Hotel
When I was a young runaway I spent a summer working at The Duke Hotel in San Franciscoʼs Tenderloin district. The hotel had new owners and they needed help. I was given a small apartment and twenty dollars a week in exchange for painting, cleaning, occasional shifts at the front desk, and various other duties. The hotelʼs clients were a varied lot including winos, hookers of both sexes, drug addicts and other assorted societal rejects. The manager was an ex-pimp named Mel. He was assisted by Karen who I assumed was an ex-working girl and by his younger brother Mike. ...