A quite handy new guide to drinking your way through the city and letting your friendly neighborhood Muni operator be your designated driver. Thrillist put this map together, and breaks it down further on their site.
LADIES NIGHT IS BACK!
ALL YOUR FAVE POST PUNK, 80S LADIES, FREESTYLE, BASS, EARLY 90S GIRL GROUPS, NEW WAVE, SYNTHIES, PUNKIES, DIVAS, RIOTS, JIVE BABIES! BRING YOUR FEET, LEAVE THE BROS AT HOME!
ALL LADY VOCALS!!!!!!!
$3 drinks for the ladies and moms get in free! Check out all the details here.
The first bar I ever went to (besides with my dad as a kid) was the Uptown. It was a great experience, just what I always thought a bar would be like: Dark, damp and a little scary. I felt totally at home. Last week the owner, Scott Ellsworth, passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack. I didn’t know Scott that well, but the couple times we talked he was always really friendly, and very supportive of the weird artsy place my buddies and I were building across the street. He ran a bar that didn’t have a cocktail program or a dress code. He ran a bar where you could sit down, have a shot and a beer and chat with familiar regulars. Inside the Uptown I’ve stored paintings during a scavenger hunt art show, made business deals, broken up fights, maybe gotten in a fight, tried in vain to get up the nerve to talk to a girl, watched my team dominate the World Series, and seen Sean Penn close it down.
The Bold Italic has a great tribute to him today, which would have been his 60th birthday.
In 2011, when I posted a picture of “KiTOS”, the letters on the back of the bar, Scott wrote in to tell us that it stood for the previous owner’s names, Kim and Tony. Let’s just say now it stands for “Keep in Touch, Ol’ Scott.”
Esta Noche’s last night has come. I lived across the street from the queer Latino bar for a number of years, in the same building of my good friend Marco. We had some fun times there together, but he had many more without me. I asked him to share some thoughts and stories of the bar. We’ve seen a lot of closures recently, but this one hits hard. It’s a rare safe space for a community that doesn’t have many. Sad to see it go. Anyway, I’ll get out of the way and share Marco’s piece:
que a cada cual, le llega su hora
vive tu vida y gozala toda
that to each of us our time comes
live your life and enjoy it completely
Soon after I arrived in San Francisco in 1993, directo from Sinaloa, a gang of immigrant locas, known to me as Las Latinillas, became mi familia in all senses. Meaning, they were supportive, caring and fun to be with but also complete bitches and a beautiful hot mess. Always in your face. They will snatch your new boyfriend, get you a green card and a job, trash your soul con canciones de Juanga and uplift your spirits ala Gloria Trevi, as they revere Selena y Los Dinos and eat pupusas revueltas at Balompie. All this, a la luz del sol.
And at night, we had Esta Noche. It was my friend Mario, well, I called him La Marieta, who took me there the first time. La Marieta was dying of AIDS at the time but as he put it, “Despues de la novela, vamos a esta noche mana, hoy canta La Ronnie Salazar.” You always knew you were at Esta Noche because of a huge self-portrait of a naked Joe Dallesandro with an eternal spotlight on his even larger penis and how can you miss the Esta Noche smell . . . a mix of tequila, piss, and Chanel N°5. Running into friends, making new friends and losing friends all happened at Esta Nasty. It was the place for new immigrants like myself to listen to our music, speak our language and just for a few hours not to feel inadequate. It was also the place for young Latinos, to come out at night and join the festivities of music, drag, stripers, and drinks. But las reynas de la noche were the drag queens!
On the chalkboard at Virgil’s, naturally.
First things first, let’s be clear about one thing: a hate crime is an act perpetrated against another due to their race, gender, sexual orientation, or religion. It often results in the death or persecution of entire groups of people, and it is deplorable. It most definitely does NOT include a confrontation over a highly controversial and expensive piece of intrusive technology. There’s no need to go all Tom Perkins over here.
OMG so you’ll never believe this but… I got verbally and physically asaulted and robbed last night in the city, had things thrown at me because of some wanker Google Glass haters, then some *bleeeeeeeeeep* tore them off my face and ran out with them then and when I ran out after him his *bleeeeeeep* friends stole my purse, cellphone walet and everything..
other patrons of Molotov’s someone working across the street had a different take upon reading the article:
That is not at all what happened. It was after last call, she was wasted and being a bitch, someone called her a glasshole and her boyfriend tried to fight the dude, and got his ass whooped. The glasses fell off her face and someone picked them up and gave them back to her. Nobody robbed her either, this [person] is making all this shit up. Go Molotovs!!!!!
At this point I thought the name sounded familiar, and I realized I went to school with her, so I reached out with the above version of events. Sarah went on to continue defending herself on Facebook:
I wasn’t being any sort of a bitch until after I was flicked off, called a bitch, had dirty wet bar rags thrown at me and had people invading my personal space and trying to rip them off my face.
Your “friend” must have been one of the people who robbed me or who were friends with the robbers and tech glass haters at that bar and must have been the wasted one because they can’t even tell the difference between males and females or remember the story correctly. No glasses fell of my face. Those were my friend’s prescription glasses who defended me and got in a fight with the guy that ripped the glasses off my face and ran out of the bar with them. And if anyone got their ass beat it was the guy that that assaulted me and ran outside the bar with the Google Glasses. The only injuries that my friend has is a scrapped knee. And actually he was jumped by two other **** while he was fighting the douch bag.
I was minding my own biz with a computer phone. Everyone has a computer or phone these days. And what have they done to the city? Given people cool cellphones?? And awesome technology that we all use and take for granted everyday? I realize that I represented the tech millionaires and billionaires in their eyes, but that isn’t me and I didn’t even pay for my Google Glasses, one of my developer friends gave them to me because he wasn’t using them and doesn’t currently have time to develop an app for them right now.
Now, the whole story sounds pretty crazy. There’s conflicting versions of events and a lot of alcohol involved. Someone else even sent me this message on Facebook:
I wouldn’t normally comment on such things but i actually met this girl on the street after the incident happened. Couple of things: It was 2am on a friday night when i met her she was less than sober (she had had approx a small child full of vodka cran’s) secondly from what she told me it sounded like she left her bag and phone unattended in a busy bar on a friday night. Her friends were so riled up (and obnoxious) that they almost started fighting with me when i argued it maybe wasn’t the smartest idea to wear google glass and film in a punk rock bar and leaving a bag and phone unattended wasn’t the wisest of decisions. I left her feeling sorry only for myself that i had spent 5 minutes of my life in her groups bosom.
So I don’t know what happened. What I do know, however, is that it is absolutely moronic to label this as a hate crime, as Josh Wolford thought fit to do. Perspective, people. Please.
(Now, if you want to go ahead and call it a HAIGHT CRIME, by all means be my guest)
We left out a number of good bar anagrams when last we surveyed this topic, so here we go again:
Bold Curve = Dovre Club
You Oral Cock = Royal Cuckoo
Cork Bra = Rock Bar
“Rum,” I lied = Delirium
Let’s Tag = Gestalt
Both No Hope = Phone Booth
Cut, Toke, Honk = The Knockout
Long Android = Iron and Gold
Robe Loom = Elbo Room
Panned Party = Napper Tandy
Out Homo-Meerkat = The Make-Out Room
Yes Colon = Clooney’s
We’ve included some La Lenguan bars this time. (Maybe next we’ll do the rest of SF too.) As always, highlight the list to see the translations.
Last month we took a look at the wild messages hidden in Mission street names. Today, bar names. Behold:
Simian Bros = Mission Bar
Calamine Lubricant = Latin American Club
Teat Itch = The Attic
Be Nerds = Benders
Never Have Tits = Thieves Tavern
Origami Solvers = Virgil’s Sea Room
Swell Host = Shotwell’s
Some Death = Homestead
Smallish Onion Silo = Mission Hill Saloon
Bye, Jean = Jay ‘n’ Bee
Open Mall = Lone Palm
Cold Cocks = Doc’s Clock
Tubby Area = Beauty Bar
Bland Tic = Blind Cat
Thirty-Machete Cheddar Element = Dr. Teeth
Trick God = Trick Dog
Highlight the list to see translations. Which ones are most appropriate?
SocketSite followed up on its original report, and found that the building owners are indeed pretty far along into the process of replacing Elbo Room with this big ‘ol condo complex:
A detailed set of architectural plans has been drafted for the project and the building’s owners have authorized the architects to act as their agents in submitting applications for environmental reviews, a historic resource evaluation, variances and Conditional Use. That’s every step required to get the project formally approved.
In fact, a month after the Planning Department provided their feedback on the preliminary plans, the application fee for which was nearly $5,000 alone, a follow-up meeting was scheduled between the Planning Department and architects to discuss next steps and plans for submitting the Environmental Evaluation and Historic Resource report for the project to move forward.