Ah. San Francisco. The city where buyer’s remorse originates. At one point, I pondered spending $25 for an egg breakfast (I’m guessing this was that golden egg Jack found after he climbed the beanstalk).
Our waitress at the first bar we went to probably makes more than I do and the people who work on the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) definitely make more than I do. But I guess it’s warranted because they have to afford a $25 egg. One waiter told us “What most people do is live in Oakland and work in SF. It’s much cheaper to live there.” I said “Doesn’t Oakland have a crime problem?” Waiter, “Oh yes. It’s terrifying there. But it’s getting better, so… Want another beer?”
San Francisco isn’t only a money pit though, it’s actually a really cool city full of culture. In fact, I saw plenty of people showing their “culture” in the Haight-Ashbury hippie district. I like to call it a Potsmokers Retirement Community.
The piers, however touristy, were pretty cool. The homeless people eat better than I do. Plenty of SF and San Fran (I was told not to call it that) shirts available, each shop cheaper than the next but still more expensive than any of the stores I frequent at home.
The entire time I was there I didn’t see one unfit local walking the hills of San Fran (I’m a rebel, I couldn’t help it). And we did a LOT of walking. It’s a workout climbing those steep hills! Awesome! It would’ve been a little more awesome with comfortable shoes, though. I never learn.
People-watching was my favorite part of the trip (other than my awesome experience with public speaking). People-watching is the best in S.F. because no one looks at anyone so you can stare as long as you want without getting that awkward, “Oh crap, he saw me, do I look away? Shoot, I took too long.”
I had a fun week with the non-judgemental, culture-rich, liberal, pot-smoking, wealthy San Franciscans but was really glad to be home.