It’s not the heat so much as the dry heat. It’s just too much. — 7:00 a.m. Saturday June 12, 2010, Inner Richmond
Now I know San Franciscans like to build things up just to tear them down or evict them (hello, Ike’s), but at the time this comment was uttered it was 7:00 a.m. and had literally been hot for 30 seconds. San Franciscans will barely give the sun a chance to rise before they start complaining about the very thing that they had been hoping for for the past 9 months.
San Franciscans are like the Goldilocks of weather. There isn’t any day that couldn’t be improved by less breeze, more sun, less fog, less sun, a little more breeze, fewer flat grey clouds, more puffy white clouds, not THAT many puffy white clouds, etc.
Like Goldilocks, there is a certain kind of day that they find ‘just right.’ This day is widely referred to as ‘the perfect San Francisco day’ and is like Full House in the sense that it is the reason they moved here, but is never as comforting as they remembered. These perfect days come around about once the entire time you live here, no matter how much time that is, and these perfect days, while warm and sunny are NOT to be confused with Saturday June 12, 2010.
Since San Francisco is a place where you can’t go from the living room to the kitchen without bringing a jacket, you would think its citizens would be excited about the opportunity to finally wear that romper they got two months ago without having to worry about what parka to wear over it, but they aren’t.
They are hot and grumpy and concerned that they won’t be able to tell heatstroke from drunkenness, and their allergies are acting up and they are pretty sure that the movie Misery was made for moments like this.
Of course the bath water conditions only got more hot tub-like throughout the day on Saturday, which certainly didn’t keep San Franciscans from heading outside in droves. Where judging by the crowds they had only two choices of venue: AT&T park where they cheered the U.S. soccer team to a glass half-full victory against England (down with the red coats! Are we still mad about that?) or Dolores Park where they sat thigh to chest with their friends while drinking frighteningly warm ros