In any other park, an abundance of snoozing and sunning winos would be considered a nuisance, if not a green belt crisis.
But the new, nameless park in downtown skid row, built with private and government funds, was designed for and with the assistance of some of this city's veteran winos.
Already informally dubbed "Wino Park," the pocket park on Sixth Street just below Mission Street has no facilities for the jungle gym set.
But it does have redwood benches wide and long enough for a man to stretch out on and "sleeping tubes" -- large drainage pipes fitted with wooden planks inside for taking a nap protected from the elements.
That's what the winos wanted, according to a survey by San Francisco's hip Glide Memorial Church, and that's what they got.
"When we work," said Glide's Rev. Cecil Williams, "we accept people as they are. We're not into saving people. We asked the street winos what they wanted and they told us a park with toilets, benches and a place to sleep."
The church put up $75,000 to buy what had been a hole in the ground and create a park for drunks, street people and drug addicts. City Hall chipped in $20,000 from its federal Community Development Block Grant, and local merchants and private citizens gave lesser amounts. A public service attorney donated $12,500 -- a fourth of his fees from a taxpayers' suit he had just won against the city of San Francisco.
Completed only two weeks ago, the park already is one of the best-used recreational areas in the city.
A dishelved middle-aged woman bobs up and down, although not in time to the music from the transistor radio she is holding in her hand.
In other park alcoves, men play dominoes and cards, some doze, others talk, often to no one in particular.
The sleeping tubes, said Williams, provide better shelter than the side of a building or the space underneath a bus, which were regular haunts until the park came along.
Unwritten wino laws provide "first come, first served" in the sleeping tubes. Two can sleep in a tube.
"There's no excuse about peeing in the street anymore," said another listener, which is not to say that old habits have completely disappeared from this neighborhood.
One of the park's self-appointed barons, who says his name is "S.Q." proudly escorts visitors to a plaque, embedded in concrete, that reads: Honoring: Winston Churchill, Ernest Hemingway, W.C. Fields, Judy Garland, Ulysses S. Grant, John Barrymore, Betty Ford, Salvadore Dali, Dylan Thomas, Janis Joplin" -- role models for alcoholic park-goers. Appropriately, a few shards of green glass litter the plaque.
But the park, with its apple and pear trees and strawberry plants is kept clean by its regulars who this week shooed away a television crew that had come to film the park. A reporter was advised it was best to visit the park in the morning only.
The idea for the park came from Glide's business manager, Michael Phillips, who explained that the church had a problem with "drunks sleeping in our parking lot. We could have hosed them down and kicked them out, but we're a church. We don't do those things."
Phillips also worried that a senior citizens' park the church plans to build would be overrun with winos.
After mulling it over, he arrived at what seemed to him to be a reasonable solution: "Give the drunks their own park."
These winos, said Williams, "share the bottle, their food, their clothes, their dimes and nickels." Now, he said, "their park."