Every majorly populated city has its own unique operations when it comes to transportation. However, from its practically 90-degree street slopes to its clown car-like filled buses, San Francisco transit might just take the cake. So, to the acclaimed commuter Bay Area town we all know and love: I express my utmost gratitude.

Thank you, San Francisco, for putting my driving skills to the ultimate test (that is, when I do drive). It’s been a while since I passed my license exam, so I’m definitely due for a check-up. Your staggeringly steep hills, and roads that are just barely wide enough for two medium sized cars, pose a challenge like no other. My reaction time and defensive driving are continuously being tried, which, at the end of the day, is only making me a better driver.

Thank you, Muni, for being a totally authentic experience. It would be weird if you didn’t smell, or constantly had drivers with compromising attitudes and no road rage. It just wouldn’t be true to your nature, nor would it be half as interesting. Plus, your unyielding inclusivity to every creepy, drugged-out passenger (even when your vehicle is stuffed to capacity) is so generous. The last thing I want in a bus ride is a phony, predictable environment.

Thanks still, Muni, for keeping me on my toes. When I stumble, half-awake, on board and forget the exact fee, or simply choose to risk it for the biscuit and not pay because I’m a broke college student, I need the Muni police to keep me in check. I may have to pay a $200 fine, but the lifelong lesson that luck is fleeting, and not everyone cares to hear excuses, is priceless.

Thank you very much, Lyft and Uber, for providing the most efficient and timely service. Whatever traffic-avoiding maps app you all utilize simultaneously enables drivers to maneuver at racecar speeds, or turtle-rivaling rates. It’s always a super fun guessing game whether I’ll arrive at my destination much sooner, or much later than I would’ve using the Metro. No other system has quite the versatility that you do.

Thank you kindly, Bart, for never failing to remind me you’re around. Between your deafening roars of acceleration, or screeches of gradual swerving, I never forget your presence. You may inhibit conversation anywhere and anytime you pass, and strike fear in all passengers, but it’s worth it just to know you’re here for me.

Thanks so much, parking, for introducing reliability into my day. I can count on you, without fail, to never be an option. For example, if I’m shopping downtown, I know that the only place to leave my car is in a lot that costs no less than $14/hr. That kind of consistency means the world, and it’s very helpful when it comes to planning trips.

Thanks a ton, bicyclists and skateboarders, for teaching me about ingenuity and bravery. The way you fearlessly plunge through undesignated lanes blows my mind every time. I wish I were able to squeeze into unconventional spaces and ignore crosswalk signals without displaying the slightest concern for getting hit, but we can’t all be like you.

Finally, thanks “hella,” rush hour, for at least not being as brutal as rush hour in Los Angeles. I really, really mean that.