Likewise, in the bush my most common view of a bear is his two arse cheeks pumping like two pigs fighting under a blanket as he skedaddles away from me. Not so in town, the buggers find out that scrawny bipeds can't point boomsticks at them, and that the aforesaid pale humanoids generally run away in fear, even if Mr. Bear is ransacking their garbage or BBQ. After a few encounters with the screaming, fleeing humans, Mr. Bear becomes convinced that all members of the Homo Sapien tribe are the same, and even if he encounters one that beats him with a bicycle pump, or busts a can of diet coke on his head, or even chases him with an axe, Mr. Americanus Ursus "bearly" blinks, and just resumes chomping on the BBQ. Although these brazen bears are usually fairly polite, and will even play with your dog, the odd one will sometimes discover, like the cannibals of old, that humans are an easy and tasty brunch.
I'm pretty sure these town bears are a lot like park bears, or bears used to a lot of people and their tasty treats. That's why I avoid those areas, and keep tripping on Crown Land, where the bears run scared and humans don't.