Summer

Often times I forget, but somewhere deep down inside�really deep�no, deeper, yea right there, I know I love San Francisco. Summertime in the City usually brings about the strange feeling that I am in a really cool, but sadistically grim movie. Well, not really summertime, but that spot after the rainy season there is those most satisfying days that fall between July and August. Summertime in the City is that one week where the temperature tops 90 and everyone is bitching and crying about how fucking hot it is. If we had a real summer, I am sure about 78% of the people that live here would die from vaginitis, which tell you the truth, wouldn�t be all bad. But the rest of the so-called summer is downright fucking blissful.
The days are cool and overcast with just enough flat light to give a fair-skinned man slight sunburn and give some distinction between sun and shade. The blustery wind makes it difficult, but more satisfying to light a Marlboro while waiting for a streetcar. Then there are the post-rainy season nights. Ahh, these nights must be better than any in the world. Especially when the day was particularly warm and tons of that trademark San Francisco Fog rolls in. It is so misty that on would think that it is raining, but it is more satisfying than the rain for some reason.
The ground is wet enough to get the bucket to spin the tires and make a few little fog puddles to stomp around in. And nothing let you know you are in a cool place like when the bartender has to put up the glass on the half-open barn door to keep the fog out of an empty dive.
This time of year damn near makes up for all of the bitch-ass scenesters, uber liberal I don�t know my head from shitty cum-filled ass let alone anything about how politics work in the real world assholes, god forsaken burnout stinky ass patchouli chewing hippies, bums, junkies and other ass clown-fuck faces that make San Francisco such an irritating place to live.
But right now, right this moment, I like it. It feels ok, man. Like I fit in for just a second, but really because there is nobody around. And if there was I couldn�t see them through the drizzly fog. Fuck, I didn�t want to see you anyway. Me and the fog, yea, we�ll be just fine.