In love

Recently, I’ve been more in love with San Francisco than usual. I’m
not sure why – perhaps the weather, perhaps moving to a neighborhood I
like more, perhaps visiting my home town – but I am in love, and will
continue to be for some time.

I love long, narrow San Francisco shops that need mirrors on the walls
so people don’t feel claustrophobic. I love drinking wine on the
sidewalk while waiting for a table in a tiny French restaurant. I
love sidewalks with stairs in them. I love that you can get a better
view from the J-Church street car than from the window of any
restaurant in the city.

I love taking the California cable car to somewhere. I love
that nervous tourists sit on the benches facing outward and bored
black-clad commuters sit inside and read the Wall Street Journal. I
love that there are people who dream of being a cable car operator,
and that they get to live their dream and clatter up and down Nob Hill
all day long.

I love that Market and 4th feels like Manhattan, and that the
Embarcadero feels like nowhere else on earth.

I love the clouds and the fog and the mist on the edge of the ocean.
I love standing on Nob Hill and watching the sun turn pale and fade
away as it sets. I love the way the clouds pour endlessly over the
mountains and dissolve away into nothing before they touch the ground.
I love that you can see this every day for months when you drive down
I-280 to Mountain View.

I love wearing a coat in June. I love not sweating. I love sitting
on the grass in Dolores Park with a thousand other happy people. I
love that there’s a guy who practices hula hoop for hours in the
center of the park, listening to his iPod and lost to the world.

I love brunch that doesn’t even start until 11am.

I love deciding which bar to go to. I love hailing a cab when I’m
tired and knowing I’ll be home in a few minutes. I love listening to
the cab driver talking to his friends on his cell phone and not having
the faintest idea what language he is speaking.

I love San Francisco.

11 thoughts on “In love”

  1. I love listening to the cab driver talking to his friends on his cell phone and not having the faintest idea what language he is speaking him not having the faintest idea where he is going.

    But yeah, I love it here too. :)

  2. Brunch involves bloody maries, and even I tend to draw the line at drinking before 11.

    I guess some uncivilised parts of the world might start brunch earlier and just offer tea, or something?

  3. It’s not when brunch starts, it’s when it ends that is important. And in many places, brunch ENDS at 11am, which means most reasonable computer professionals will never have an opportunity to eat it.

  4. Wow, I had no idea. I think I have only eaten brunch here, which ends at, what, 2pm? (Though I am also unclear at what point brunch becomes lunch, but maybe that is a matter of whether it’s the weekend or what kind of food is being served.) I am slightly appalled to discover that it is different elsewhere.

    Incidentally, I still haven’t taken a cable car anywhere. I do like briefly pausing in the middle of the street and standing on their rumbling tracks though…

  5. It’s one of the street car lines – they are a letter followed by a street name, like the N-Judah that goes to the ocean. This kind of complexity is incredibly annoying until you have it memorized, at which point it becomes charming and lovable. Awwwww!

  6. It’s nice to have that feeling about the place you live.

    I tried imagining what I’d write for Dublin… but today I’ve got nothing. Time to move somewhere else, methinks.

  7. I smiled hard when I read this.

    I’m glad I got to experience more of San Francisco than I had in the past, although I hope that I’ll fall in love with London as much as you have with San Francisco.

  8. This was a lovely bit to read.

    Photos to follow, I dearly hope? The language was so evocative that the piece begs for illustration.

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