albadger | Gentrification? No. The City is actually being ruined by Thrill-Parkification.

I went back to my old job and chatted with two of the young ladies I'd worked with. "How are things going?" I asked. Their crestfallen expressions told me everything. We arranged to meet for dinner that evening.

I returned to my apartment to get ready; this seemed like more of a luxury hotel room that was open to the guests of a reception for the ruling class. The suggestion was made that I join my father on the brand-new "environmental roller coaster" that had been built on the hills of San Francisco, so I had my grandfather house-sit, but as I went through all the requirements in the different rooms, he kept wandering off.

The coaster had a number of differently configured cars; we were on the lead car, which didn't have seats, but instead used a static-electricity system to keep passengers attached to its smooth, bulbous surface. Since my dad was using a wheelchair, he was strapped to the side, while I rode on top. The train lumbered slowly through residential districts; past the small cinder-block four-plex where I'd previously lived (vacant and condemned for plumbing problems); past an Asian art extension of the De Young Museum, only one of fifteen buildings on its street with giant Chinese guardian lion statues in the front yard; parallel to the N-Judah tracks in the Sunset district. The train moved slowly, as it was at grade, and had to stop for traffic and pedestrians; we were nowhere near the actual lift hill, much less the drop. "I'm going to miss dinner with my ex-co-workers," I said.

"I dropped some stuff in your car," my dad replied.

"That's not actually possible," I told him. "The car is smooth and bulbous, and keeps passengers attached with static electricity."

And then I woke up, with the indelible image of giant roller coasters covering the hills of San Francisco burned into my brain.