Seven Easy Ways to Piss Off a San Franciscan

If you’re trying to piss off a San Franciscan, here are six ways to do it. I’ve no doubt there are more. Several more. You’re encouraged to add to the list.

1. Openly support Trump (or Biden, or Kamala Harris, Gavin Newsom, London Breed…)

“Frisco” doesn’t get much of a rise out of anyone these days. Openly championing today’s shitty politicians, regardless of party affiliation, now that’ll earn you some side-eye on MUNI. I rode the 27-Bryant the other day and the whole bus was tolerating some crazy old Trump supporter. That doesn’t mean everybody voted Blue. That’s not how it works. The absence of evil doesn’t mean the presence of good. Even when Biden was somewhat lucid, his ineffectuality still drew ire. Call it what you will, but I suspect San Franciscans are sick of politicians altogether. 

That’s especially true for San Francisco Mayor London Breed. Her fans are a dwindling minority in the city. With her clear disdain for leftist representatives Chesa Boudin and Dean Preston and cronyism á la DA Brooke Jenkins, London Breed has been inching closer to the right, shilling for the rest of America to stop calling us a shithole and sacking San Francisco’s humanitarianism to do it. She’s your classic Mean Girl, convinced everyone likes her when it couldn’t be further from the truth. See? Just writing about her pisses me off.

“Coconut-pilled:” To know and understand that you exist in the context of all that came before you.

2. Pile onto the #SfDoomLoop narrative.

It’s not cute. The #SfDoomLoop is a smear campaign whose reach is nationwide. Donald Trump called us “communist San Francisco” for coexisting with a homeless population cheated by poor policymaking. It’s a horrible reality, and many would not mind seeing the homeless incarcerated. You might be thinking, “Wait—I’ve heard my neighbors talk about eradicating the homeless like rodents.” I’m sure you have. You’d be surprised how many locals are guilty of contributing. 

It isn’t a good look. San Francisco is unique for accepting outsiders. It’s part of what makes it so wonderful. Hating your fellow San Franciscans makes you part of the problem. If you’re a hater from elsewhere, well, go fuck yourself. 

3. Have in-unit laundry at your place.

This one’s based on pure jealousy. 

The true mark of an adult is an in-unit washer and dryer. No quarters, no apps. Just drizzle the detergent and let the machines take care of it. The money I’ve dumped into my building’s shitty laundry machines would probably cover repairs to my own. 

I would trade having a dishwasher for in-unit laundry in a heartbeat. My partner and I recently house-sat for a friend. You bet your Broke Ass I hauled our dirty clothes halfway across the city. Thanks for letting us hang out with your cat! Don’t look at your water bill! 

4. Casually mention how little you pay in rent.

Don’t worry if rent is expensive in your city. You can still make us feel bad by casually dropping your amount. No need to drive home the comparison. We’ll do the rest.  

San Franciscans hate reminders of how absurd it is, handing over sixty, seventy, eighty percent of their income to a landlord that won’t fix the elevator. Believe me, we know. It shakes us more than any earthquake. It’s why having a good job matters, one with decent pay and/or sweet tips, and why I go feral on cheap bastards that don’t tip.

And if you bought your home? Forget about it. The disconnect might as well be interstellar. I will never own a home, and I have to live with that. Too bad it can’t pay rent.

While I may be a Broke-Ass, I draw a problematic quantity of pride from living in San Francisco. When in doubt, a San Franciscan’s first line of defense is reminding themselves where you live. I grew up in Kansas City. Here I’ve learned to preempt the coastal hesitation that pops up when I reveal my landlocked origins. “I’m from Missouri and I’m sooo glad I live in California.” If you’re a Midwestern transplant like me, you’re already well-trained to placate without being noticed. So don’t take it personally. 

5. Work in tech. Yes, we’re still bitter.

As Salesforce continued to cut apart my marriage, I wondered, “Am I ready to C R M for what it really is?”

The tech industry triggered one of San Francisco’s largest transformations since the Gold Rush. Faceless corporations reshaped the skyline in their names and drove the city’s landlords manic with greed, starting a housing crisis. But when COVID hit, the tech industry crumbled. The city’s latest “It” industry solidified San Francisco’s Boomtown reputation, but the other side of the coin says Bust. 

The pandemic pulled the veil on certain relationships with the city. The same companies London Breed helped devastate San Francisco’s middle and working classes abandoned us the second the going got tough. Many techies, never dedicated to this city to begin with, moved away once office culture fell apart. Their condos, now vacant, replaced buildings that housed generations of San Franciscans until someone got an offer they couldn’t refuse. 

It’s safe to say the city feels used. Our government is a right-wing regime hiding behind a liberal name. The only ones who feel like they’re for San Francisco anymore are San Franciscans. So give us a break if we’re a little defensive. We know what makes this place special. 

6. Insist on driving everywhere.

You want to drive the Winding Road? Everyday? Is that it?

Yes, cycling here is hell at first. It’s true, MUNI may be in the most terrible shape of its life at the moment. But we still possess one of America’s most robust light- and heavy-rail transit systems. And, downtown aside, riding a bike here is a breathtaking experience for more than one reason. 

But if you insist on driving everywhere, you can drive your happy ass back across that bridge. I have unwillingly sat through more than my fair share of Bay Area traffic. The futility of sitting in gridlock makes me fidgety. Shit, even walking is better than driving in most cases. San Franciscans know the city is inhospitable vehicles.

Bridge toll and awful parking is usually sufficient to ward off people thinking of driving to the city. But some people just won’t listen. So I have to use persuasion. I’ll drum up the bipping issue to avoid being captive to the parking dance, even if it goes against Point #2.

7. Make us go to Oakland.

OMCA Off The Grid. See? Oakland is cute.

It’s like getting a kid to eat their vegetables. We know it’s good for us. It just doesn’t look good, until we taste the difference. After making a fuss, we invariably say how much we needed that. Then we return to San Francisco and reinsulate. 

And that’s why we San Franciscans need to be pissed off every once in a while. So feel free to call up a buddy in SF. Ask who they’re voting for. Joke about choosing any candidate that vows to power wash the poop from the city’s sidewalks. Mention how it barely takes you an hour to do a regular load of laundry. Drop your comparatively reasonable rental rate. Remind us how we could be millionaires by now if only we “worked in computers.” Delay lunch by twenty minutes because you couldn’t find parking. It’s fiiiiiine.

Piss off a San Franciscan today. It’s easier than you think. But in all seriousness, please keep inviting us to Oakland. We really do need it.