Just read this lovely Missed Connection to Dolores Park's Truffle Guy (emphasis added):

I think ur name is “DEVIN” and ur black.

U were selling homade truffles out of homade round metal boxes u hammered yourself with homade minitents to keep the sun off them so they don't get all melty for ur customers! Ur so cute cuz I think about u sitting at ur kitchen table making those minitents at night when ur not in the park and u have candles all around u or I think about u in ur garage making boxes drinkin a beer with a hammer. U were the one w/ shorts looked like maybe from france def bluish and a pink and white stripe half shirt and a brown leather bracelet with little beads on it u probably made it to huh!?? and u had brown dressy shoes with really strong legs. U also had a weird but cool hat on that looked like a city in another country is that where ur from?! It also looked like minitents. U said u dint make it but I bet u really did :). U were a gentlemen to me and my friend, cute nice eyes NICE BIG SMILE. U smell good too :).

I was the one who followed u around the hole park and helped u serve truffles to customers all day saturday. U told me not 2, but I actually wasnt being nice I wanted to be close to u for more time u smell goodddd! Then I gave u my # and address in san mateo. I was chilling up on that hill with my girl Sandy. I was the one named Dawna like I told u before.

Well I see ur not there again this Saturday cuz I was in my car by up on that hill and ur not there or I just couldnt see u :(. Im at the library writing this. I know classy. Neways, Im staying in the city in my car 2nite so hit me up if u want me 2 come over instead ;). Hit me up if u forgot my number or name or just wanna hook up. I will do it 4u :).

Dawna

Well, I'll make sure to be in the park Saturday to watch this crazyperson get maced.

[h/t SFist | Photo by Jennifer Lightfoot]

[ed. note: This is a guest post by Ronald Berndt, who conducted in-depth anthropolgical research in San Francisco]

Men and women rise and begin to dance.

The dzamalag opens when two Gunwinggu women of the opposite moiety to the singing men “give dzamalag” to the latter.

They present each man with a piece of cloth, and hit or touch him, pulling him down on the ground, calling him a dzamalag husband, and joking with him in an erotic vein. Then each woman of the opposite moiety to the pipe player gives him cloth, hits, and jokes with him.

This sets in motion the dzamalag exchange. Men from the visiting group sit quietly while women of the opposite moiety come over and give them cloth, hit them, and invite them to copulate; they take any liberty they choose with the men, amid amusement and applause, while the singing and dancing continue.

Women try to undo the men's loin coverings or touch their penises, and to drag them from the “ring place” for coitus. The men go with their dzamalag partners, with a show of reluctance, to copulate in the bushes away from the fires which light up the dancers.

They may give the women tobacco or beads. When the women return, they give part of this tobacco to their own husbands, who have encouraged them to go dzmalag. The husbands, in turn, use the tobacco to pay their own female dzamalag partners…

Someone in the Lower Haight is not amused with JautCare's love advice.

[Photo by Jeff McC]

Also, there're tours of Valencia now? [Twitter]