When I moved to San Francisco, I spent a good month looking for a place to live. I knew where in…read morethe city I wanted to live (where I eventually ended up living), but more importantly, I knew where I didn't want to live. Or at least I thought I did. There were also plenty of places that I would live if I had to, but they weren't high up on my list of places to check out.
One of those places was the Inner Sunset. At the time, I was generally a Richmond boy, if only because my brother had mostly lived there, except for when he first moved to San Francisco and lived in the Outer Sunset near Polly Ann's (https://www.yelp.com/biz/polly-ann-ice-cream-san-francisco). In my mind, if I were going to live in the Sunset, I needed to be closer to Polly Ann's, so the Inner Sunset didn't do anything for me.
Well, I was wrong. So so so so very wrong. So wrong, in fact, that when I had to start apartment-hunting again this past winter and into spring because my San Francisco home of almost 20 years burned down, the Inner Sunset was a preferred neighborhood, not just one that I would put up with living in.
Ninth Avenue by itself is worth everything. But there's so much more, and sometime between my moving to San Francisco and my flat burning down, my brother had moved to the Inner Sunset, and then he moved even innerer into the Inner Sunset.
The one place I was interested in seeing during my 2003 housing search was on Irving Street, between either 9th and 10th, or 10th and 11th. This was back when photos on Craig's List either weren't allowed or were few and far between, so all I had to go by was the potential future roommates' descriptions of themselves and the apartment. It sounded wonderful, as did they. But when I showed up for my appointment five minutes early, no one was home. I dutifully called and waited 20 minutes outside, and then called again, but no one ever got back to me. This might seem like par for the course now, but it was the first time, I believe, I had ever been ghosted. I'd been stood up before, of course, but there had been subsequent fake apologies or whatever. This time? Nope, neither of the potential roommates ever called or emailed me or responded to my polite email asking whether they need to reschedule. Ghosted. In 2003. By people I'd never met in person but had had a nice phone conversation with. It bothers me to this day, and sadly, I think I've held that aggravating experience against the neighborhood, if only a little bit.
But you know what? Even if Canvas Gallery is long gone (and that's OK, because I really used to like Pacific Catch before it got so corporate), there's still Gordo and Green Apple and Arizmendi and Hometown Creamery and Sunflower Garden and the gelato place and so many other favorites, and again, that's just on a three-block stretch of 9th Avenue.
I also love Hugo Street. And here's an important San Francisco-locals-only question for you: Is Hugo the "H" street of the Avenues, or is Hayes? Or maybe it's Haight? I have serious history with Hayes, but despite that, I vote for Hugo. What do you say? Compliment or message me with your true and final answer.