The first real winter rains have begun in San Francisco. Before that, it was unusually cold, with daytime temperatures failing to hit 50 degrees in late November. Wet is a different story, though, when living outdoors. Being saturated may be okay for a while, but eventually, most people seek indoor safety and comfort. How does it affect the open drug scene in San Francisco?
On Wednesday, Dec. 17, 2025, I went to the Tenderloin to interview a cross section of the city’s drug users who congregate on the sidewalks and alleyways. I asked how they’re protecting themselves from the rain and whether it deters them from their activities.
If they wanted to escape the elements, they would, but are drawn to the streets despite being wet. To stay high, they’ll stay out.
The first people I spoke with were two men in their mid-30s, huddling under dripping umbrellas on the corner of Hyde and O’Farrell streets. They were smoking crack, and during the 20 minutes I sat with them, their torch was continuously blowing flames to light their pipes. One didn’t want to share his name, the other said I could call him Gerald. Neither wanted their photos taken.
They were brothers from Pismo Beach, Calif. “Don’t we look alike?” asked Gerald, pulling off his hood and holding his face next to his sibling’s. “People ask us if we’re twins, but we’re five years apart.”
When asked how they were managing the rain, which was coming in sideways at that moment, they shrugged. No big deal, said Gerald, pointing to the umbrellas they had positioned to block most of it. They’re not interested in going to shelters.
However, the anonymous brother said they were planning on leaving San Francisco soon because the cops were coming down harder on public drug users. For money, they steal and boost, but lately it’s become less lucrative and more problematic. Can’t shoplift from Macy’s in Union Square anymore because “they’ll take you right to jail,” and he has a warrant.
The sky cleared, so the brothers closed their umbrellas and began to leave their spot.
I continued walking down Hyde Street, now joined by the community advocate known as JJ Smith, who also owns Tenderloin Deli and Connect. He introduced me to Venita Hunt, a 35-year-old San Francisco native.
Hunt was sitting in a wheelchair on the 200 block of Turk Street. She spoke very slowly and quietly, occasionally drifting into silence. Her substance is fentanyl. The cold doesn’t bother her; she explains, “It feels like a nice fan.” As for the rain, she says it doesn’t affect her.
I noticed her small feet. She was without shoes, and her socks were drenched. Has anyone from the city come by to offer a place to stay? She said no, but wouldn’t be interested anyway. Nor does she want a more permanent housing option in a single-room occupancy (SRO) hotel. “They have mice, roaches, and black mold,” said Hunt.
Notably, Smith estimates that about 40 percent of those who appear to be homeless in the Tenderloin have housing. If they wanted to escape the elements, they would, but they are drawn to the streets despite being wet. To stay high, they’ll stay out.
Randy Shaw, executive director of the Tenderloin Housing Clinic, agrees, explaining that thermostat drops, not moisture, are the most significant weather-related deterrent to public drug use.
“People are less likely to sit down on the sidewalks when it’s very cold,” says Shaw. “We saw fewer people out here doing drugs because of it last week. But rain is not a game-changing event. They’ll stay, but go under overhangs and into laundromats.”
As for staying healthy in consistently damp, cold conditions, Hunt admits it’s not possible.
Statistics bear this out. A November 2025 UCSF Benioff Homelessness and Housing Initiative report found that 45 percent of adults experiencing homelessness rated their health as poor or fair, and 37 percent visited an emergency department in the past six months. One in five were hospitalized.
However, while UCSF workers were recently in the Tenderloin to give people on the street flu and COVID-19 vaccine injections, Hunt says other medical care wasn’t offered or provided.
If the rain gets very bad, Hunt says she will go to Glide Memorial or St. Anthony’s to pick up a free plastic poncho so she can ride it out.
The drugs, though, will carry on. “Fetty keeps me warm,” Hunt said.
At the Tenderloin Deli and Connect, I met Christopher Jones, a thin 55-year-old military veteran with a gaunt face and huge hazel eyes. He spent six and a half years in the Marine Corps but doesn’t receive benefits because he was dishonorably discharged.
Jones, who originally hails from Michigan, calls the blocks of Ellis and Mason streets home. He said he used to have a serious methamphetamine addiction, but now does mainly weed.
He was wearing a plastic poncho over his bulky jacket. I asked whether he got it from Glide or St. Anthony’s, and he shook his head, making it clear he bought it with money he earns from odd jobs and collecting bottles and cans. Indeed, while I was there, Smith spoke with him about the tasks Jones would soon be performing in the deli.
The wet weather, said Jones, doesn’t bother him much. He’s got other things to worry about, such as being robbed of his possessions, including his form of identification and Social Security card. His fiancée left him not long ago, and he broke down in tears. The rain is among his least concerns.
Smith started to close up shop, so we left. Jones pushed a Target shopping cart up the street, stopping to pick up any abandoned cans and bottles.
On the 400 block of Leavenworth Street, two SFPD officers were monitoring a Department of Public Works cleanup of a pile of cardboard and other sopping items. I watched for a while, then asked one of the cops about the thousands of people outside, lying on wet sidewalks in various stages of inebriation.
Rain, whether drizzle or downpour, doesn’t really have much of an impact on public drug use in the Tenderloin, does it?
“Nope,” the cop replied, blandly. “It’s business as usual.”