"Yeah, it's different," says the medium-term neighborhood resident. "These kids moving in. With the skateboards. And their apps." His eyes narrow. "And all the laundry services."
Mission Park is a vibrant, free-spirited neighborhood we created as a joke on Twitter. It encompasses some of San Francisco's most sought-after territory, from the J-Church stop at Dolores and 20th to that bougie coffee place around the corner from Duc Loi.
"Fucking seven dollars for a fucking waffle," Olu notes.
He can remember when Mission Park was a different place. "There was a different guy who sat at the corner at the 500, I think," he recalls. "Don't know what happened to him. Maybe he died."
|Map courtesy of Burrito Justice, who whips these things out like you wouldn't believe|
Like it has in the rest of this churning, pulsing city caught up in a new gold rush where the gold is Internet things and not gold, change has found Mission Park. And not all residents think it's for the better.
"Look, I know that change is inevitable," said Stephen, a medium-term Mission Park local. "But I would appreciate it if the neighborhood would be more the way I like it and less the way other people like it." He's got no time for dog-walking apps. "I walk my dog eight times a day just fine on my own, and I don't need any app for that."
Others, like TK, who doesn't live in Mission Park but likes to visit there, take a more measured view. "The fuck do I care?" he said on a recent sunny afternoon. "I don't live there. Not my fucking problem."
Still, there are parts of Mission Park that will never change, new faces or not. "There are still a lot of human feces on this street," says Stephen. The heart of Mission Park beats on.
Since this post was originally written, Mission Park has changed once again. It's growing, and not everyone is happy about it.
"I'm not happy about it," said Olu.
|The new new Mission Park. Coming to your block soon.|