A rodent — and let's be clear, based on its considerable size, this is indeed a rat and not a mouse — was spotted on Kearny Street clutching what appears to be a King's Hawaiian roll with the confidence of someone who just walked out of Boudin Bakery with a fresh sourdough loaf. The building identification question? Completely forgotten. The rat discourse? Thriving.

As one local put it: "That is a big ass rat doing big ass rat things." Hard to argue with that assessment.

Look, we love San Francisco. We love the architecture, the food scene, the fog rolling through the Golden Gate. But there's something deeply telling about a city that spends billions on municipal services and still can't keep its rodent population from dining better than most of us. Another SF resident noted with regional pride: "West Coast rats are the best coast rats. Over there, they eat gross floor-soiled pizza. Here, they feast on only the finest sourdough rolls."

This is funny, sure. But it also points to a persistent and unglamorous reality: pest control and basic sanitation remain afterthoughts in a city budget that somehow never has enough money for the basics but always finds room for another study, another commission, another initiative with a clever acronym.

San Francisco's Department of Public Health oversees pest complaints. The city has poured money into various "clean streets" programs over the years. And yet here we are — a rat on Kearny Street living its best life with artisan bread.

Maybe the rat has it figured out better than City Hall does. At least it knows how to secure a meal without a $200 million budget line item.

Next time someone asks you to identify a building on Kearny Street, just know: the rat already owns the block.