As a 3rd generation San Fransiscan, San Fransisco is a dirty two-fisted drinking town, full stop. We are the descendants of the leftover dregs of society, the junk drawer of mankind. We are used batteries, bent paperclips, lint, and stripped out rusty screws. Any illusions to art havens are from the last batch of transplants. Romanticism is borne of a head injury to your hippocampus. This city is for the losers and weirdos, the people that can't fit in; hence the gays. That's not a paen to some crappy apple ad about being different. We are not liked by society, we are scoundrels and assholes, drunks and drug runners, we are the fags and chinks and every other horrible name. We are left alone. And now the transplants from the last wave of the hippies and the techys think this place is theirs now. Nice try. You aren't reviled enough yet. When everyone else turns you down, then you come to SF and can talk about your new home. Hell, have a beer.