San Francisco – Hilly and Full of Freaks
Famous For:
Leather boys, 49ers, 69ers, and sourdough.
Overview:
Hilly and full of freaks, San Francisco has been a bastion for artists, writers, and musicians since the Beats first came here in the Benzedrine and cheap port wine fueled literary explosion of the Fifties. Dirty stinking hippies soon followed with the Sixties drug explosion, and the inevitable punk rock backlash of the late Seventies and Early eighties. All these factors combine to make San Francisco a great place to get drunk, paint yourself up like a psychedelic freak, and fall down in the streets.
Getting Around:
San Francisco has a great drunk friendly public transportation system, for $11 you can get a day pass that will take you anywhere in the city, including the touristy cable cars, a 3 day pass is only $18. These are well worth it. The best thing about the busses is that they run right up to last call, so you can stagger back to your friend's couch, hostel, or scary wino hotel on the cheap once the bars close. These passes don't work for the BART, which is a train line that can take you to other cities around the bay area.
Secret Everybody Knows:
San Francisco is, like, totally gay.
Secret Nobody Knows:
If you want to find a bar that is open at 10am, ask a cook. They'll know.
Where to Stay:
The first time I came to San Francisco I stepped off of a train at 10pm, with a duffel bag, not too much money, and the onset of a bad case of food poisoning. I had left Denver on the first train that was going anywhere interesting, had made no plans, and knew nobody. The hostels were booked and the downtown hotels were over priced, so I wandered porn stores and prostitutes, bag over my shoulder, butt cheeks clenched as the fever came on and my intestines gurgled a funeral dirge. I finally found a cheap and nasty hotel called the Mithila (972 Sutter), which was the crown jewel of an area full of cheap and nasty hotels. After a long and involved conversation through an abused speaker with a man ensconced in a bullet proof cubicle that went something like this:
Me: I would like a room
Hotel Guy: Gamuphler baked potato?
Me: A room.
Hotel Guy: Lesbian friar's club?
Me: OK.
Hotel Guy: Forty-five greased pigs!
Me: Sure, why not?
I handed him the cash, got my room key, and was buzzed in. The room had threadbare carpet, a dubious bed spread that I would never for the life of me want to get a black light near, a bathroom featuring a claw-footed tub and a certain amount of moldy grout, a pile of porno under the bed, and too many doors. The extra door threw me a bit, as it seemed to be locked from the other side. I jammed the room's one chair up against the door knob, took a soothing bath, perused the fine magazines that the former tenant had left behind, and ran to the bathroom frequently as the poisons worked their way through my body. Personally I enjoyed my stay at the Mithila, but it's definitely not for everyone. It is definitely a chunk of the seedier side of America and is perfect for someone with nothing worth stealing, a decent amount of street smarts, and a love for Charles Bukowski novels.
If you want a little less scary accommodations try one of San Francisco's many hostels. But, be warned, many of these places have curfews, strict rules on alcohol and drug consumption, visitors of the opposite (or same) sex, and fun in general. Ask a lot of questions.
So I'm Not Gay...:
It's OK. According to the denizens of San Francisco's notorious Castro District, no one is perfect. There are plenty of non-gay and semi-gay destinations in San Francisco, so don't feel pressured to put on a dress or some assless chaps for your night on the town. In general, if you leave them alone, they'll leave you alone. OK, Mr. Uptight? On the other hand, if your feeling curious, want to be a looky-loo, or just want to get spanked, there's plenty of places that you will be welcome, just be adventurous.
Places to Avoid:
Haight & Ashbury. This former Mecca of the counter culture is now a shining textbook example of how America takes its cultural heritage and turns it into strip malls and catchy t-shirt slogans. Besides the endless flocks of fifteen year old suburban runaway gutter punks that swoop down on you for spare change and attempt to sell you oregano laced with weed killer and tiny squares of paper that are, well, tiny squares of paper, this area of San Fran is tourista hell. Gawk at the corporate stores of hippydom! Mingle with ageing Yuppies who remember wanting to go here, but never making it, back in the sixties! Spend your money on crappy Eastern trinkets! Run screaming from the Gap and Ben and Jerry's! Avoid at all cost!
Places You Can't Miss:
The Tonga Room in the Fremont Hotel, 950 Mason Street. Imagine that Don Ho and Elvis got together, took some real good windowpane, and opened a bar and restaurant. This cavernous room is a little pricey for food and drinks, but you have to go there at least once. Inside this huge classic Tiki bar is, I shit you not, a full sized lagoon. The Polynesian band floats out on a straw roofed barge, plays some groovy music, and then it starts to rain and thunder, with water pouring from the sprinkler system, lights flashing, and thunder rolling. Surreal is the only word that describes it properly.
Chinatown. This stretch of San Francisco is a blast, and actually not too touristy. Try to avoid Grant Street, because that is mainly there to sell you stupid t-shirts and shitty plastic Buddhas. Just wander around the neighborhood and you can find strange and exotic vegetables, dried squid chips, potions for your wang, and shitty plastic Buddhas to send home to mom.
Eats:
The Mission is generally Hispanic and a great place to get cheap tacos and burritos of all sorts (even veggie), if you aren't stuffed for under $5 you are doing something wrong. Try El Farolito (2778 Mission) or Taqueria El Toro (598 Valencia), you may have to wrestle a few cockroaches out of your way to get to the counter, but it is well worth it. Spanish language skills are helpful, since it is quite possible to accidentally order a brain and tongue taco. Important note: if they don't have brains or tongue on the menu and cockroaches in the bathroom, you should go some place else, this being the litmus test of authentic Mexican food.
Drinks & Music:
San Francisco is a great drinking town, and I would have to write page after page describing some of the fun, loud, bizarre, and dark bars in this town, so I'll just narrow it down to a few of my favorites.
First of all, two things about drinking in San Francisco and California in general: 1-There is absolutely no smoking allowed inside of bars and restaurants in the state of California. While pesky for all you black lung types out there, it can be useful, since you can tell exactly what kind of bar you are going into by the type of people hanging out around the door stealing a quick smoke.
2- There are two basic liquor licenses in California. One is a full service license, allowing beer, wine, and hard alcohol to be served. The other is strictly a beer and wine license. The first type is almost impossible to get now, you basically have to blow up another bar with that type of liquor license, kill the owner, and then fill out a hundred pages of paper work in triplicate. So, if you want a nice shot whiskey with that beer, you may be disappointed.
There are some good places to see music in San Francisco, and foremost in my mind is the Bottom of The Hill. This large capacity bar has great sound, good food, and a surly yet efficient bar staff. It is the place to go to see some of the larger regional touring acts as well as some of the more bizarre local acts. The Hemlock is a full service cozy bar with a room in back that features punk rock, eclectic, and art rock. Edinburgh Castle is a Scottish bar, right around the corner with live music and occasionally theater upstairs.
The Mission district is also ripe with music venues and straight up bars. First and foremost is the Mission Bar at 2695 Mission. This is the bar where Kerouac used to drink, so crawl up onto a worn barstool, get drunk, and mumble incoherently, knowing that you are following in the footsteps of greater drunks than you.
Other good bars in the area include Delirium at 3139 16th, which is a great place to while away the afternoon with the local skate punks, while getting abused by a surly bartender who wants to kill you with heavy pours, Kilowatt at 3160 16th, which is a roomy bar that is headbanging boozing fun, and Zeitgeist at 199 Valencia, which is a great mellow afternoon destination located right between the Castro district and Mission. I just like going here, sitting at the picnic tables in back and having a serious Sunday afternoon argument with my hangover. Something along the lines of: "Shut up. Hic. No, you shut up! Drink your medicine!"
Booze Warning:
This town seems to be the focal point of a massive advertising campaign for Frenet Branca. Wherever I go, people are always offering me a shot. If it is offered, try it (after all free booze tastes better, right?). But, be warned, it is reminiscent of grass clippings that your grandfather distilled in his basement.
Drugs:
As mentioned above, the upper Haight is a great place to buy shitty drugs and oregano sprayed with weed killer. But this is San Francisco, and if you can't score something somewhere then you must be the straightest looking dink in town, you narc you.
What you Missed:
The Odeon is now gone, so, as far as I know, there is no longer any bar in San Francisco that you can see someone light a bottle rocket out of their ass and not get thrown out.
Hobo Street Markets: On random street corners you can find enterprising street people doing their own style of yard sale that consists of a few filthy blankets spread out on the sidewalk displaying various items fresh from the neighborhood's Dumpsters. You can find clothes, toasters, brick-a-brack, and shitty plastic Buddhas. I remember walking home, freezing my butt off on a balmy San Francisco August night and stopping at one of these impromptu street sales. The fine raggedy drunk proprietor acted like I was at one of the finest clothing stores in the garment district, measuring me, displaying his fine selection of salvaged sports jackets, and haggling over the price. I picked out one that looked vaguely my size and fairly clean, and walked away warmer and only three dollars lighter.
Events: Anything to do with the San Francisco Cacophony Society. They are know for their dadaist public stunts, including Santa versus clown pie fights, and getting drunk, dressing as salmon, and running the wrong way through the San Francisco Marathon. Their main goal seems to be enjoying acting strange in public.
In the Alaskan Iditarod, more than 60 PETA haters beat and torture dogs as they mush a sled from Anchorage to Nome. In San Francisco, over 5000 PETA lovers dress up like dogs, tie themselves to keg filled shopping cart, and get wasted as they negotiate through the unforgiving dangers of San Francisco's urban frontier.
Where to Live:
Oakland. In San Francisco real estate is at an insane premium. Half the time the only way to get an apartment is to show up cash in hand, a lot of cash in hand. Oakland is farther away, a little grungier, a bit scarier, and a much cheaper. If you don't want to commute, there's always the Mission District, but with all of the hipsters moving into the area, rent is still on the hair-raising side.