San Franciscans love to hate on things. This is because there is pretty much nothing a San Franciscan can imagine that is worse than their own life. This is also why San Franciscans love the website ‘Fuck My Life,’ and can frequently be seen sending emails to friends and business associates that are signed not with their name but simply with the acronym ‘FML.’ To a San Franciscan even the most delicious wheat-germ chocolate chunk cookie from Specialty’s tastes only bittersweet.
There are literally thousands of things that San Franciscans love to hate on, but two of the most egregious affronts to their delicate sensibilities are as follows:
Hipsters: San Franciscans love to hate on hipsters. They hate hipsters even though they know that they themselves either are, were, or want to be one of these brooding, bruised, skinny people. Some people would say this is a good example of irony, but San Franciscans only like irony when it is directed at L.A. or people who live in the Marina, which to them is the same place anyway. It is this existential loathing of hipsterism that allows San Franciscans to say things like ‘fuck my life’ with such authenticity. San Franciscans are like method actors who got lost in rehearsal for an independent theater production of Grapes of Wrath. The only difference being that no matter how down and out a San Franciscan thinks they are they would never offer to breastfeed a stranger. That’s what nannies are for.
People who try to board crowded buses: San Franciscans love to hate on people who try to get on their crowded bus after they have already gotten on the crowded bus. If you see an overburdened grandmother struggling up the back stairs of a packed Muni you will never see a San Franciscan move aside to allow her through. It may be that San Franciscans didn’t do very well on conditional statements in Logic 101, but whatever the reason, the concept of ‘If Grandmother then Move’ simply does not register. What a San Franciscan will do in this situation is actually move less than they ever have in their whole lives, while saying something like, “This bus is FULL,” in a voice dripping with self-righteous indignation. You might even hear them mention something about their civil rights or how they voted no on Prop 8. This is pure San Franciscan mindfuckery, and it is useless to try to understand or even to pretend you understand. Instead, stare dreamily out the grimy Muni window like a shaman on peyote and whisper, “Jesus was the original hipster.” This works almost every time.
Have a tip for what San Fransiscans are liking this week? Send it to Ramona at email@example.com