notes on San Francisco
In San Francisco, you can easily spot the tourists. Sorry, the visitors. They’re the ones not wearing a little woolly hat. They’re the ones not doing the crusty thing. They’re the ones staring at the lesbian couples holding hands.
In San Francisco you can get drunk on sangria on the top of the hill and walk home. There aren’t so many pigeons everywhere. When you buy fruit and vegetables in the shops, they are ripe.
Like probably everywhere else in the world, when school’s out there are crowds of obnoxious kids crammed into public transportation.
Besides all that, the 8% tax and the tipping still do my head in.