Romance & Sex
As seen next door to Doc's Clock.
It's the first Tuesday of September, so San Francisco's loathed drug goons are amidst caravanning back from the desert and car wash employees are contemplating career changes. Normally, it's a day filled with unpacking, testing the limits of REI's return policy, and boring your Facebook friends with mystical praise about going off the grid. But for one, it meant dumping desert dongs in the streets of SoMa.
Excuse the grainy picture, but right there is a Mini Cooper parked outside of Good Vibes Dong Shop, slathered in stickers reading “No Baby On Board” and propping an app that is effectively Task Rabbit for people you entrust not to throw your crying monster down the stairs.
Not sure if this is targeted advertising or pure coincidence, but I love it either way.
(Side note: has anyone else been noticing the drastic uptick in startups parking billboards in the Mission's bike racks, parking spots, and in front of fire hydrants? I'm guessing it's only a matter of time before the city looks to ban those too.)
During the dot-com boom, the city started to lose some of its soul. Greed started to rule, and the city started to become more and more expensive. The weird craziness started to slip away. Experimentation and reinvention began to vanish as the cost of living in the city became prohibitive for artists and dreamers and anyone who didn’t work in tech. […]
But now… Now it’s worse than it was in 2000. Now it’s only about the money. Now the only diversity we have left is ethnic diversity. Everyone is rich and privileged and entitled or hustling as hard as they can to become rich and privileged and entitled. A city once defined by people wanting to change the world is now defined by people who just want to be among the world’s richest. A culture that once understood history and tried to create it now has a memory that’s about 2 fiscal quarters long - and a vision that goes as far out as their funding allows.
San Francisco used to be weird. And we were proud of that. Now it's shockingly vanilla and suburban and conformist. It once felt like a city. Now it feels like a suburb.
And that's sad.
He goes on to say that weirdness has been replaced with “the exact same frat boys and sorority girls and mommy bloggers and snobbish rich kids that I moved here to avoid.” And now that it's cheaper to rent in Cole Valley than the Mission, he's out of here.
Agree with him or not, the entire letter—aptly titled “Don't Be a Fucking Douchebag”—is worth a read.
[via Mat Honan]