Years ago I went out on a first date with a chick. It was chaperoned. It was in SoMa.
I took her (them, actually) to a really neat place that made crepes. They would do a flamb-ay and light them on fire. Not all the alcohol burned off, and she sorta accused me of trying to get her drunk.
I married the chick, and we still call that place “date rape crepe”. It’s gone now; I think it was called Ti Couz.
Anyway, to the point: at 2am when we left I saw my first and only traffic jam composed solely of bums and their grocery carts. They actually had bum gridlock!
Also, SoMa is where I saw my first bum openly pooping on the sidewalk.