Yup, San Francisco does seem like that some times

This was the lede from the New York Times' "Frugal Traveler" column today:

“Do you have any alcohol pads?” asked the woman on Market Street one crisp, sunny San Francisco afternoon last Wednesday. “I just got stabbed.” She opened her puffy black jacket to show the bloodstain on her white T-shirt, and looked expectantly at me. I shrugged my shoulders; I hadn’t packed any alcohol pads.

“Well then,” she added, “could you spare some change?”

I wonder what part of Market the Frugal Traveler was walking on.  Could it have been the Tenderloin?