South Park is not to be confused with the show about four potty-mouthed animated characters. It’s a few block area located South of Market near the entrance to the Bay Bridge. The neighborhood is designed around a grassy, oval-shaped commons with a small playground. It’s ringed by former warehouses, metal shops and renovated Victorians. The neighborhood has been through considerable changes. About twenty-five years ago, it could’ve been dubbed “Needle Park” due to the many junkies nodding out on the grass or hitting up pedestrians for change for their next score. Crime and grime were high, so consequently, rents were cheap. Entrepreneurs eventually took notice and soon descended on the area. One of the first was South Park Cafe, an acclaimed French bistro. Graphic design, architecture and multimedia companies, and Wired magazine soon followed, converting spacious warehouses into work/live loft spaces and post-modern studios.

The junkies are long gone. More wine bars, boutiques and bistros have sprouted, including The Grilled Cheese Cafe. A new modern condo is on the market for $5 M. What a difference a few decades makes.

The car turned into South Park, then pulled up in front of the Coffee Farm café, a block from the Love Match office. Some children were playing in the small playground across the way, while their mothers hovered. Jessica glared at the women in their tight yoga clothes that showcased their sinewy arms and bubble butts. Look at them. All fit and gorgeous with their stupid, happy smiles. Why can’t I be like that?