It was chaos right out of the gate last Thursday. But it was that special San Francisco breed of chaos that locals find comforting.
The F Train streetcar departed at 4 p.m. sharp but then came to a halt 20 feet later when the cable lines got entangled. “God bless our MUNI workers,” said the night’s MC, Ifn Whendy. It felt like it wasn’t the first time this had happened — you just don’t see it when there’s a roof between you and the metallic web that makes our public transportation system run.
The night served as a kickoff for the Hotsy Topsy Club, a series of F Train line streetcars that will run in a loop around Market Street between City Hall and the Ferry Building, and then down to Pier 39. It’s like your run-of-the-mill Thursday after-work commute — but really fucking awesome.
The event happens every first Thursday of the month as part of Market Street Arts’ free arts-driven event series that runs through November in the beleaguered mid-Market area between 5th and 6th Streets.
Whendy took stage in the center of the car for most of the ride. She was funny, elegant, classy, and relaxed. She’s been in San Francisco for generations and spent a lot of the time chatting with the performers and riders, and taunting the confused commuters at each bus stop. This alone could have entertained us for the entire night.
Remember: this is a work day. People are just leaving the office and trying to catch a ride home on their regular MUNI route and a retro 1934 drop-top cable car pulls up with burlesque dancers and people who look like just walked out of a swinging 20s costume party. “Welcome! You’ve found yourself on a surprise train ride!” she said.
What was just a commute naturally became a party: some of the passengers had decided they weren’t getting off until the night was over, and we all looked forward to new perplexed expressions at each stop. As the train slowed for the station, we would all run to the side of the car to watch people make the do-or-die decision on whether or not they would board. If they did, they were greeted with applause and laughter.
Tiffany from Hayes Valley got on the bus to meet her friend for dinner with no idea what was going on. She stayed on with me the entire time, and said she plans to do this again every Thursday that it’s available.
Five Louisiana boys in their early 20s seemed actually scared as they boarded. But when I talked to them it turns out they’re from New Orleans so this wasn’t completely shocking for them. “It’s like, San Francisco is new weird, and NOLA is old weird,” said K.R. Ray when I asked if they found Bay Area cultural moments like this odd.
At one point a very hesitant kid got on after only another passenger screamed “This trolley is free until 7 PM!” He rode to his destination with headphones on, as if there wasn’t a jazz band playing next to him.
Small, succinct acts happened here and there in a way that felt perfectly timed so that it wasn’t overkill. Kiki la Chanteuse is a professional burlesque dancer and old-soul vocalist. When she sings you get goosebumps. I realized that a full-on jazz concert would have been a little overwhelming, and la Chanteuse’s scarcity made her even more special. She was the only moment when the whole bus could go completely quiet; we didn’t want to miss a single musical note.
Chinese-American immigrants Andrea and Ling Ling performed a traditional Chinese Fan Dance periodically throughout the trip. Their movements were majestic and provided the ultimate dichotomy when performed in front of trash cans at a bus stop on Market Street.
Emperor Norton of San Francisco showed up for a time, trying to sell shorts and issue his own currency in typical Emperor Norton fashion. He did the Irish dip pretty early on (English dip? South African dip?), and Charlie Chaplin, who brought a similar aurora but fewer words, took his place.
The interruptions were another show on their own — or maybe part of the show. There was something so utterly San Francisco about hearing la Chanteuse’s soulful voice harmonized over sirens, car horns, and passing Reggaeton beats. Every time her song would pull your soul into a glitzy 1920s jazz club, the actual MUNI would pass and bring you back to Market Street.
The fact that la Chanteuse and the other performers were so unbothered by the racket of the rush hour Market Street made me realize that living in the city is an exercise in the subtle art of not giving a fuck what’s going on around you. It conditions you to live your best life from wherever you happen to be.
Scooters paced us. Kids yelled profanities at us. We had a tiff with an upset bus driver who thought he had the right of way. (He probably did, but we had a jazz band on board so move the f over, you know?)
We were excited about everything. Getting other cable cars to ring the bell was a thing, and we went crazy every time it happened. We applauded each time someone got on the train, which was confusing for them, but when people clap for you when you get on a train you feel special and it just makes you smile. By the end of the ride, the F Train was everyone’s favorite train in the city — if it wasn’t already.
Courtney Muro is a San Francisco-based content strategist, producer, designer, and creator.
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