Eyesore on Wheels
For four nights over the Labor Day Weekend, this RV eyesore and its occupants were parked across the street from our flat, next to the park. Usually, as my wife reported to me from her observations, they are parked across the street from the Safeway at the end of the continent. After observing some regular visitors to the RV, as well as a Sunday police event at the Muni stop in front of the Senior Center, which somehow involved the seemingly lone female inhabitant of the RV and two males, I finally decided to call the SF Police.
Don’t get me wrong: I know that many of the homeless are vehicularly dependent for a safe place to sleep. It’s quite obvious which vehicles parked adjacent to the park along Lincoln Avenue and Fulton Street, as well as along the Great Highway, have folks living in them. I, too, in my younger days, have slept many a night in whatever car I owned, one reason why I stuck with pick-up trucks and a VW van for so many years. Most of these four-wheeled homeless aren’t criminals, but some are, have been, or potentially can be, and, no matter what, when they’re parked in front of your home and you have a family and you’re paying a premium for a flat in SF with a view of the lovely pines and cypresses and those wonderful non-native eucalyptus–you don’t want them there.
I let it go for a few nights, waited to see if they’d move on, despite the parking tickets collecting on their windshield (obviously, I wasn’t the first one to complain). Nope. Anchored. After the police incident, the suspicious visitors, the cigarette smoking and talking outside the RV, I had enough. I called the Park Station and spoke with the desk jockey with a shield who told me to call dispatch (btw, 415-553-0123 for direct police action, which still will take a few hours).
Within an hour, a new parking ticket on the windshield. About two hours later, a police cruiser showed up, the officer knocked on their camper door and I assume told them to crank up and move on to another area of this fine city. And so they did. One of the male occupants got out of the RV, opened the hood, finagled with the battery and cranked that loud, diesel-belching beast into life. In a matter of minutes, they had wheeled out of there to be an eyesore somewhere else.
So, am I a bad guy?