Love Letters to Inner Sunset

Yes, it’s foggy, but that stuff rolls straight off the Pacific. No, I still don’t have a backyard, but then again, it’s only two blocks from the park. The air is cleaner here. Sure we have our regular vagrants, but you can actually wake up here on Sunday morning and see real life before noon. We’ve got top-notch pizza joints, American too and tons of greasy spoon breakfasts that cure even the toughest hangover. Is it dinner and a movie night? Four billion titles to choose from at Le Video. Burritos to go, how about a Yellow Sub? Too many choices indeed: Thai, Chinese, Indian, Mediterranean, fresh fish, and better get some wine, oh hi family-owned markets, or mouth-watering grocery store. By the way, where was that hangover from? The Little Shamrock on Lincoln? The one that served meals to the Quake refugees 103 years back? Or was it the big guy, Yancy’s on Irving? (It does have shaggy carpet darts, after all). Or should we blame Mucky Duck again? Well, good thing you met that late night sweet crave at the 24-hour donut shop. Man, I sure could use a haircut and another manicure today, but which one of the small, cheap salons should I go to? And after that, I’ll probably just shop for some Great Stuff, check Wishbone for more funky trinkets, and head to Crossroads for another pair of pants, recycling is in btw. Craig takes the bus to his headquarters on 9th, and why not, with major connecting lines on every corner and the infamous N Judah running all night. Well it’s time for some fresh Beanery coffee and a Tart to Tart. Don’t worry, I’ll walk it off, over to the Academy of Sciences, It’s a good four blocks. Inner Sunset, I love you.