City Folk

Sunde White illustrates her weekly essay about how she imagines hypodermic needles everywhere from living in the city so long.

City Rabbit

This morning we left our Mission neighborhood apartment early and ran our dogs out to the beach near Half Moon Bay.  We are at the coast pretty much every day since we surf and I work in Pacifica.  It’s a huge relief to have an escape from SF life which has gotten pretty messy recently.  Between the homeless encampment across the street, the COVID testing center on my street that brings lines of people wrapping around my block all day, the human poop, the trash (our trash cans were removed by the city years ago and never brought back) and the needles, it’s a total bummer living here.

Thank goodness for our beautiful coastline. We can get a break from the city, get some exercise and fresh air and then barricade ourselves back into our apartment that we’ve made cozy enough to be pleasant over the years.  You can leave the city for a few hours but does it ever really leave you?

We grabbed a bite to eat at our favorite restaurant after going to the beach.  We tucked in with our fries and sandwiches out at the sunny picnic tables.  It was early so there was only one other customer, a lady that had deposited her black lab puppy next to her toddler in his stroller and was taking photos of the cuteness.  So she didn’t notice when I nudged Britt.  He followed my eyes to under the adjacent picnic table where it looked like there was a hypodermic needle sitting there, waiting for a family to step on.

“Oh my god, is that a needle???”

Britt squinted.  “I don’t know, it looks like it, but don’t they usually have orange on them?”

I stood up to get a closer look.  It looked like a used needle but instead of an orange strip it had a blue strip.

“Maybe it’s from a different manufacturer or something.”

I got up to take a closer look.  It was white like a syringe.  It had a sharp point that widened out on the other end where you pressed your thumb to plunge the fluid into an arm.  “Ew.”  I said as I got closer.

“Oh my gosh, it’s a…”

“Golf tee!!”  Britt finished my sentence and we both breathed a sigh of relief.  There would be no picking up dirty needles with a napkin before lunch for us!  I snapped a pic of it for the gram and went on to have a relaxing and delicious meal.

“I guess we’ll never stop being city people.”  I told Britt.

He shrugged and nodded and kept eating his fries.