Only in San Francisco...the first two episodes

You hear the phrase "Only in San Francisco" tossed around a lot, a few too many times for my taste. Overuse starts to give it a ring that sounds precious to me. I will admit, however, that there are times when it does apply.
I was walking on a sunny day in North Beach one weekday afternoon, and to my complete surprise, I saw the guys from the Fruit of the Loom commercials in full fruit costumes, rolling down the street in a low rider with the hydraulics jacking up and down. Shit was over the top! I'm pretty sure the apple was driving, but I am not totally clear on that. It was like some bizarre parallel television universe all of a sudden, a casual state of affairs that got surreal, real quick.
After a look around, I located the camera crew, and a conversation with a guy waiting around on the block helped me figure out that they were in fact shooting a commercial, and that he was an extra hoping he would get chosen for some work. That helped make some sense of it, because I was in disBELEIF when I initially saw them rolling the FUCK OUT in that tricked out Impala; hitting switches on the hydraulic lifts and making the grapes on that guys purple costume shake.
Another episode of only in San Francisco comes from a former coworker who gave me his account of what he found the morning after Halloween one year, in his car. He had long since stopped locking his car doors after the windows were broken several times to break into his car. With the stereo and everything else of value removed, he hoped that leaving the doors open would help someone discover that there was nothing left worth taking, without having to smash a window to arrive at that conclusion.
It was quite the stunner to see someone in full gorilla suit passed out cold on his backseat. Some real out of context shit that just puts the mind on whirl. He stood there for an extended pause wondering what the hell it is that one does in this situation, never having been presented with it before. Before long he chose to awaken the beast with some shoves. The beast reared its head and managed a few grunts as it somewhat painfully shifted into a seated position. It looked at him with an inquisitive expression for a couple of long seconds, struggling to gain some bearings likely. It then rose up and ambled off down the street, walking the walk of the deathly hungover to some unknown destination.