Roasted 1w ago16 views16 pts
We're sorry. Actually, no we're not.
Bubblegum Alley is 70 feet of chewed gum on Higuera Street, and it has been scraped clean before and grown right back, which makes it the only thing in SLO with more staying power than a Cal Poly grad living in their parents' guest house. You're famous for a wall of other people's saliva, and the only thing you're chewing on is the same eight dollars of rent money.
Oprah and National Geographic crowned you the happiest city in America, and you've been insufferable about it since 2006. Meanwhile, housing in your town is among the least affordable in the country, so the happiness is mostly roommates and denial. Everyone's smiling because they're four deep in a two-bedroom and the Bishop Peak sunset is free.
Your whole social calendar is five blocks of Higuera Street closed off so thousands of people can shuffle past a smoking grill and a guy playing acoustic Sublime. Firestone Grill has been serving the same tri-tip sandwich since 1984, and you act like it's a Michelin-starred miracle rather than beef on a buttered roll. The 'what are you doing after work?' answer is hiking a hill, and the 'what are you doing Thursday?' answer is the same sandwich you had last Thursday.
Your rough side of town used to be called Barrio del Tigre, a lawless hotspot of stagecoach bandits and vigilante lynchings. Now your most dangerous criminals are Mindbody employees riding e-bikes through crosswalks and tech workers treating the town like a playground. You went from outlaws to guys in Patagonia vests, and honestly, the bandits had better taste in footwear.
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