Enough with this heat already. It’s just not OK. I know that it’s supposed to be our Indian Summer and all that, but it’s been Indian Summer now for like three years. Ever since it stopped raining, San Francisco’s weather has become like L.A.’s.
How terrifying of a sentence is that by the way? “Ever since it stopped raining …” sounds like the start to a post apocalyptic book, and that’s what this heat feels like, the Apocalypse.
OK, I’m exaggerating a bit. This (probably) isn’t the Apocalypse. But seriously, San Francisco just isn’t equipped for this heat. The only places with AC are downtown department stores and hotels, and many places don’t even have ceiling fans. Plus, I’m just not equipped for this heat either; the only pair of shorts I have make me look like a Juggalo … I just made nearly the entire readership of the San Francisco Examiner Google Juggalo. You’re welcome.
You know what the best part of San Francisco’s Indian Summer is? Having 800,000-plus politically correct people wondering if they are supposed to be incensed by the term. But that’s a whole other story.
This morning, my girlfriend and I spent 45 minutes walking around the Mission looking for a place that had Wi-Fi and air conditioning so we could work. My 101-year-old building was erected back before global climate change, when S.F. was overcast nearly year round. It, too, is ill-equipped for this weather.
There are talks about this being a big El Niño year, and I know we all really hope it is. But if it isn’t, does this mean we have to start planning for weather like this all the time now? Do I have to buy decent looking shorts? (OK, I really should.) Do we need to start looking at window AC units? And who am I supposed to ask? It’s not like the weather people ever get it right. That’s gotta be the only job in the world where you can be wrong that often and still get paid well.
And just think what this is doing to our reputation! How many times have you giggled to yourself when you met a tourist who was like, “Golly, I thought since I was going to California, I’d pack only shorts and tank tops. Who knew it would be so freezing here?”
These people are all going home now and saying, “Wow! The weather was so nice in San Francisco.” This heat is ruining our street cred.
Oh, just imagine what it must be doing to the clam chowder and San Francisco fleece sweatshirt industries. Those are the goddamn backbones of this economy! People come here and they shiver so they warm up with chowder and a tourist fleece. This is just unacceptable.
So, that’s it. I say we all go on strike! No more work until this weather lets up. I’m calling for whatever the opposite of a snow day is. Let’s fill the streets and the parks and the beaches with our bodies, and let’s put a halt to all commerce until the U.S. government finally does something about climate change …
Then again, I could be wrong about all this. Maybe by the time you read this the fog will have rolled back in. This is San Francisco after all.
Stuart Schuffman, aka Broke-Ass Stuart, is a travel writer, TV host and poet. Follow him at BrokeAssStuart.com. Broke-Ass City runs Thursdays in The San Francisco Examiner.