Two days ago, we at the Pepper were crammed into a MUNI train headed for SBC/PacBell/CorporateMerger Park because of the San Francisco Giants game.

We at the Pepper were listening to a young woman squealing, "Oh! I'm falling over, and I'm not even drunk yet!" and rolling our eyes when said eye-roll led to a strange and unusual sight in San Francisco.

A young man was hunkered over a copy of Ann Coulter's Treason.

In San Francisco? City of the Moonbats? (Credit given to Bedrock Truth, who doesn't like us Moonbats, but who has coined a pretty handy phrase.)

We would have recognized the book if the Coulter-reader hadn't removed the dustjacket. Perhaps he was afraid he would receive a Moonbat Butt-Whuppin. Perhaps he was afraid of smudging Coulter's iconic visage. Perhaps he was ashamed of himself.

But we have manners in San Francisco. We at the Pepper didn't sneer or turn up our noses or step on his feet when getting off the train. We're nice people. Now, we've received some angry stares at the Denver airport for reading Al Franken's book, but we don't play that game.

In short, young man, if you want to read Ann Coulter, then by golly, read her. But read her proudly! Be brave, be bold, and read that Ann Coulter book!

Then again, he might discover that Moonbats will leave him alone and, hence, aren't that bad after all.