Shirley M. F.
Yelp
11/24/2018: Feeding the parking meter in order, going to spend an hour at SF City Hall paying over $10.00 in quarters was a precarious feat due to the fact, several homeless people were staring at me as I fed the parking meter. I finished feeding the meter BUT, I felt strange like my hair was standing up on my arms, the back of my neck felt a sense of danger lurking behind me, and my heightened survival instincts kicked in . . . I took out my pepper spray from my backpack pocket, quickly turned around seeing a homeless man creeping behind me!
Augh~I warned the man in a very commanding, gruff voice that I meant business to " . . . stand down or he'll get an eyeful of capsaicin and will be sent to the hospital bleeding to death!" . . . I know he saw I flipped my Leatherman knife opened inside my left pocket; however, he kept advancing towards me then, at the last second, he diverted behind the rear of the car next to the right side of my truck. I turned immediately towards looking at the sidewalk where the parking meter location is and another homeless person began advancing towards me; at that point, I quickly pressed the panic button on my truck's key FOB which remained attached to my pepper spray causing both homeless men scurrying away.
Mind you, this happened around 11:30 AM-BROAD DAYLIGHT: This truly was an unnerving experience for me knowing I was armed with pepper spray in one hand and knowingly holding my Leatherman knife extending out at knife point held at bay inside my left blazer pocket! Please keep in mind I was trained in hand-to-hand combat in the USAF so, I was prepared doing some lethal, bloody damage if, provoked or harmed.
As I walked towards City Hall checking my surroundings, walking along the tree-lined sidewalks searching for the two homeless men if, they were attempting ambushing me for a second time. I saw several other homeless people staring at me . . . I know all to well, word spreads fast like wildfire: The homeless peeps saw I had my knife still extended from my blazer pocket, deciding walking away from me, and leaving me alone. I possess a Leatherman, camping knife that's definitely not a typical, small, pocket knife; furthermore, I will not hesitate using my knife and pepper spray in order, protecting myself from harm's way.
Inside City Hall: You must embark the "search and seizure queue" where you must submit your "gear," checking to the right and left of City Hall-the foreboding dark hallways, the eccentric atmosphere felt egregiously solemn, almost to the point of . . . Um~Yes . . . Impersonal! The line obtaining the marriage license felt like I was at the Department Of Motor Vehicles getting a driver's license.
It felt absolutely impartially austere, unromantic, and observing couples patiently, quietly waiting for their number being summoned. The gallery where everyone congregates taking their wedding photos, there were a plethora of brides spread throughout the gallery, i.e, the same size as a typical grand ballroom.
Above the grand hall via the mezzanine level and first floor, you may observe photographers sprawled dotting the grand staircase photographing "just married" couples; yet, each photographer grimacing, struggling, purposefully blocking out other wedding couples from their camera's viewfinders.
Sadly and most unfortunately, the day Giovanni was married at SF City Hall, there were over two hundred couples congregating the area obtaining their marriage license, grand hall, gallery, grand staircase, mezzanine, and first floor: I searched everywhere for Giovanni but to no avail, I was unsuccessful finding Giovanni . . . or witnessing Giovanni getting married! WAAAH~I even had a wedding card filled with money, too.
So, I left after 45-minutes searching for Giovanni, walked down City Hall's steps; low and behold, I see the two homeless men who attempted ambushing me earlier standing by the tree-lined sidewalks, not too far from where my truck was parked.
Seriously, my current experience at City Hall was NOT a pleasurable, memorable experience in contrast, how San Francisco used to be where people were dressed to the nines-men dressed in business suits while women wore colorful dresses, no homeless peeps anywhere, no sweatpants or pajamas worn in public, streets were clean, and the SF atmosphere was lively and bright. Now, SF has this unclean, negative, depressing, dangerous energy, the sidewalks are ladened with feces which I find egregiously disgusting and highly intolerable; it's no wonder my reasons moving away from the city of my birth are valid.