Hood Rich.

Written Wednesday, September 14, 2005
(When as u will read, I SWORE I was moving to NY)

So I’m taking the escalator up from the Powell St. Bart station on my way to work this afternoon and it looks like shit outside. The sky is a gloomy shade of, “Only in San Francisco gray,” and the smell of piss lingers in the air only to be cut short by a fragrance I call city funk. Yet – homeboys with phatty out-of-towner accents behind me are all:

“Dude, its so SICK outside. It’s even better at night.”

And despite the fact that I’m officially convinced that summer does NOT exist in my city – I couldn’t agree with them more.

I swear, it’s like I’m fuckin married to the block and we got this love-hate relationship going on (Don’t play I know yall feel me on that one!).

I’ll admit it, every now and then I take advantage of the relationship…and sometimes I even go astray like when I went to NY last year…ooh and then there goes summer in South Beach…and WHO can forget Vegas just a few weeks ago? But don’t get shit twisted – I love my city and my city loves me.

Just when I think I’m almost tired of the same ol’ same ol’ routine, we get a 75 degree day in October, or find a hidden hot spot. So when a bitch is eyeing my territory, instead of throwing attitude, I smile ‘cuz I get to wake up every morning to it.

I guess sometimes we just need to be reminded of what we got. Like when u get mad at yo’ man for lookin at another female then ur best friend tells u that her dude of 8 years beat her, cheated on her, took out all the money in the account, and is gay. Don’t u just wanna hug a mufucka after that?

Same difference.

I’ll put on a skirt on a warm ass morning to get rained on 3 hours later and be pissed off as fuck. Then, one of those surprisingly warm nights will occur where I can sleep with the windows open and we kiss and makeup. Or I’ll take that 6th street exit at night to see the city skyline gradually emerge in the horizon and I fall in love all over again.

From the sex shops on Broadway to the tacquerias in the Mission. From pipe dreams on Haight St. to boutiques in the Filmore. From the Bow and Arrow on Embarcadero to the tulip garden by Ocean Beach. From SOMA shows to running through sprinklers in the Sunset – I LOVE ME SOME SF.

I write for my college magazine and the theme of our next issue is “Culture,” as in what makes up the Bay Area? I thought about the city of New Orleans and the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina and I COULD NOT fathom something as horrific like that happening in San Francisco.

The 3 blocks on Taraval I practically grew up on. The exit I got arrested on. The hill I used to run down when I would cut class. The bus routes I remember by heart. The first 21 club I snuck into. The liquor store I first stole from. The favorite bonfire spots. The park whose bridge me and my homegirl accidentally broke. The alarm at the Coit Tower that we set off while condoning underaged drinking. The church I seen my first love at. The parking lot I had… :oX

And who HASN’T taken some unsuspecting out-of-towner to Stow Lake, Cats Eye, or the Legion of Honor?

To think it could be gone tomorow. It’s a reality I must consider.

Often times you’ll hear that all good things come to an end, and I feel like that about this concrete jungle I call home. Especially since I’ll be moving to the East Coast in a year or two.

I almost feel like I’m having an affair, but I love my city for what IT IS and what IT IS NOT. And every good relationship is about trust, communication, understanding, and compromise.

For every “Mad,” I say, u best believe u finna hear 5 “Hella’s,” afterwards. My neighbors will eventually know the lyrics to “Five on It,” and if u ever see me on the streets make sure to holla. It shouldn’t be too hard to spot me, ‘cuz I’ll be the one in the Giants jersey.

Fuck leaving my heart in San Francisco, San Francisco’s coming with me.

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