NEWSPAPER HEADLINE: "Bush: War Made U.S. Safer." Thought: I wonder if the hundreds of U.S. citizens who died fighting it would agree? I guess so. Death makes you safer too.

So let's wonder about the thousands of freaked-out soldiers who didn't die, who are back in the United States, or will be eventually, either banged up in hospital beds or tossing and turning under their own privately owned comforters. Did the war make them safer? –I'm not saying it didn't. I'm just asking: how can war make anyone safer? I've never attended one, myself, but I understand them to be fairly tumultuous times, vis-à-vis gunfire, bombs, explosions, dismemberment, and shit. Hell, even the rich, powerful people who tend to orchestrate these fireworks displays from the safety of our television sets, they could conceivably find themselves someday dancing down the wrong end of a death count. No? Or at least having bad dreams. Who knows?

Anyway, safety is overrated. Safety is illusory. Safety is Fear's chicken-shit little sister. It's why we invented all our gods, governments, and gadgetry and cooked our pork chops until they didn't taste like anything at all. The pursuit of so-called safety is the kiss of death.

I don't know what the hell I'm talking about, of course, but I know who I'm talking to: Neno. Hi, Neno. If the fucking 33 bus would ever show up, I could quit harping who-to-vote-for and move on to food, like I know you like me to do, Neno.

Today we're going to the Haight, to eat breakfast ... at the People's Cafe. I didn't know this detail, Neno, until I got off the 33 bus at Haight and Ashbury, started walking, and saw two stick-figure peace signs holding hands over the door of this place. People's Cafe. That's the kind of mood I'm in this morning. In the mood for eating where people eat. At a table made out of coffee beans with glass on top. In the window, so I can watch all the colorful Haight Street people walking to and, in many cases, fro.

I ordered a design-it-yourself omelette, which seemed like the most peopley thing to order, even over the "people's choice" (two eggs and two pancakes) – because I don't like people telling me what people want. I wanted sausage, tomato, and provolone cheese in my omelette, which, for 69¢ a thing on top of the $3.79 base rate, comes to, what ... five ... ninety ... something.

Not bad, for a price for a thing. As for taste: very, very good. The sausage actually was great. It tasted homemade, fresh, juicy inside with a slightly charred exterior. And there were a lot of chopped tomatoes and melty provolone helping this great sausage to make my omelette make my day.

The potatoes that came with it were big cut and good cooked, with the salty, spicy seasonings crusted onto them, along with little bits of fresh parsley. Plus, there was thick-cut whole wheat toast – only for some reason they didn't bother to butter it. I had to go back up to the counter and ask for butter.

People want butter! Don't you know?

People also eat their garnishes. They got this right: a four-fruit garnish, featuring slices of honeydew, orange, apple, and a strawberry. And the strawberry ... I don't know how to explain this to you, Neno, so that you'll understand ... It was a strawberry, but it was sliced into slices, but it was still whole, like a book, with a sliced-up strawberry for pages and the green thing on top being the binding. You could read this strawberry like a book. But I don't know what the point would be. It didn't say anything. It was just a strawberry, just like war is war and Bush is Bush and safety is dangerous. Dang!

Now I'm sitting here sipping coffee and getting it all down on paper. Besides omelettes, besides breakfast in general (served all day), you can get sandwiches, salads, soups, burgers, and even a couple of pasta things, including lasagna ($6.75). Ravioli ($6.75).

Not bad prices. Good coffee. Coffeehouse atmosphere. The Haight. People. Maybe I'll go get my ears pierced. Buy a record. Did I mention? – Bad music. In fact, here come the Eurythmics.

"Sweet dreams are made of cheese."

That does it. I'm outta here, into another foggy, fucked-up San Francisco day, Neno. Wish you were here.

People's Cafe. 1419 Haight (at Masonic), S.F. (415) 553-8842. Daily, 8 a.m.-10 p.m. Takeout available. Beer and wine. American Express, Discover, MasterCard, Visa. Wheelchair accessible. Dan Leone (cheapeatsguy@yahoo.com) is the author of Eat This, San Francisco (Sasquatch Books), a collection of Cheap Eats restaurant reviews, and The Meaning of Lunch (Mammoth Books).

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Dan Leone is the author of Eat This, San Francisco (Sasquatch Books), a collection of Cheap Eats restaurant reviews, and The Meaning of Lunch (Mammoth Books).