“Cowboy Bob!” they shout.
A silhouetted figure, slightly hunched and topped with something akin to a park ranger’s hat, enters out of the bright daylight into the small, cramped space that sits at the eastern edge of The Tenderloin on Turk Street.
A regular has arrived at Aunt Charlie’s Lounge, bearing a boxed dinner from Popson’s from around the corner on Market Street, a gift for Gabriel, the mesh-tanked bartender who’s managing the joint on a recent late Thursday afternoon.