The Lonely Girl’s Beer Guide to San Francisco: Airplanes and Alcohol
It’s that time of the year again, when everyone is traveling and what’s a better pass time then drinking alone in a tube up in the sky that you can’t get out of? A lot of things actually, but sometimes you just have to work with what you got.
Airplanes and alcohol can either be the greatest combination or the absolute worst, due to the high altitude and pressurization in the airplane cabin anything can happen but at least we can all bond over the stories that derive from such precarious matters. Airports and airplanes work solely based on the honor system which in my opinion should be the only system because it’s always 5’ o clock somewhere right?
For example, I was but a newbie 20 year old traveling by myself down to Buenos Aires to meet some of my fellow classmates. I was happily watching Spanish TV and eating my semi frozen lasagna when the flight attendant came up to me again, this time not with a trash bag or more food but two bottles of wine. “Red or White?” she asked… wait… no other options? Soda, water, nothing? I guess I was technically above the country where my age would not permit me to drink booze (in public) so my response, “White, I’m not trying to get too crazy.” She didn’t laugh, but poured me a glass and moved on.
Something inside me changed that day when I gladly drank wine as a minor by myself on that airplane. Maybe it was my dehydration from being thousands of miles above the ground but I felt like a real woman for the first time after exiting my teenage years forever.
Ever since then, drinking in the sky has become my shit, for lack for better words. Now, if you’re really trying to do this right though you must go classy or go home. I’m talking Virgin America classy, where they give away free alcohol like it’s going out of style. “Uh excuse me flight attendant, my seat wont go back,” Free booze. “My TV doesn’t seem to change channels?” Free booze. “First Class,” Free booze. And my all time favorite, “you don’t take Discover card?” Guess what? Free booze. Recently, while flying Virgin America I took the 7 am flight back home on Thanksgiving Day. I didn’t really notice at first but I guess all of the TV’s in my row didn’t work. At first I didn’t care until the flight attendant came by and apologized to the man sitting next to me. I guess he was really upset that he couldn’t watch Keeping Up with the Kardasians so of course guess what we were offered? I jumped on this like nobodies business and I apparently started a trend when I asked for a mimosa because everyone in my aisle decided to order one too. And there we were at 7 am flying miles above the world drinking mimosas and silently enjoying the fact that we were not the only ones doing it. We didn’t really exchange words with each other, but we all knew, this was the greatest day of our lives.
The Lonely Girl's Beer Guide to San Francisco: Everybody Should Go To Driftwood
I moved to my darling apartment tucked in the back corners of the SOMA district almost 3 and a half years ago, this was a time back then when strolling to work next to a shirt-cocker walking their dog and the occasional blow job in my alley on a Friday night were totally a thing. SOMA is, after all the quintessencial leather daddy district of San Francisco. The inner rebelious metal head (not really but I wish) in me was stocked to live in such a quirky environment. A place where goth clubs like DNA lounge and Cat Club could still somehow exist. And I could attend bars like Butter in my sweat pants which helped me drown my sorrows of forever being a broke artist along side of biker men and God knows who else who had the guts to wander the down 11th street. However, a shift has begun, no longer do I see “men” wearing leather chaps roaming the blocks of Folsom street, they have been replaced by “boys” wearing Chrome bags and Google Glass. Artist warehouses where I’ve seen my far share of almost everything after hours have been bought out and turned into the key phrase on every young Franciscan’s mind “start ups;” aka a small room full of eager 20 year old millionaires trying to create the next Facebook. Though few of the small dive bars still hang in the corners of SOMA, many are getting replaced by restaurants that use real cloth napkins.
Anyways, not all gentrification is that bad. I’m really not that bitter I swear. Hidden gems are beginning to appear everywhere in my neighborhood, tucked in between large warehouses and the last of the leather shops. My newest favorite of these, a small bar called Driftwood. It’s dope. No but really, it’s actually an awesome bar. Located between 8th and 9th on Folsom, it’s easy to miss unless you are looking for it. It’s quiet, dim lit with real candles and a fireplace. The couches are cozy and the chairs at the bar are actually very comfortable. There is even a dick in the bathroom, I’M NOT JOKING GO AND LOOK FOR IT YOURSELF.
The drinks are a little pricey, but that’s the price you pay for attempting to go to a nice bar in the SOMA or even San Francisco these days. So, be stoked if you get a couple drinks and pay $20, because they are delicious. This bar kind of reminds me of classier untouched-by-bro Bloodhound, before Bloodhound got really popular and you could even get a drink at 6 PM anyday of the week. I gotta say I love that bar, but it’s kind of become a hectic mess.
At Driftwood, the drinks are super sassy, the bartenders make a mean Picante if you know what I mean ;)
The Lonley Girl's Beer Guide to San Francisco: An Ode to Bubble Baths and Beer
I woke up this morning and realized that I haven’t taken a bath in over 3 years. Why? Probably because baths are a huge waste of time and in a city like San Francisco, time is money and money is time. Real talk though, I don’t understand why it has been so long. Baths, bubble baths especially are incredible. Showers get the job done, but baths on the other hand, rock your world. It’s like one big restart button mentally and physically. You step out of the bath tube feeling like a whole new human person. Potentially fantastic right? So why do we not take the time and to do said bath thing? Because we live in a world where doing nothing for a change is looked down upon and spending time laying in a bath tube full of hot good-ness and bubbles is really not a thing.
I say, screw that and take a bubble bath with a nice cold beer.
Anyways, what the moral of the story for this week is: take that extra time you have and utalize it to your fullest potential. Take a bubble bath, drink a Modelo and relax and think about the world. It’s actually a beautiful place when you’re stoked to be inside of it.
Also, listen to the band Beach Fossils while you are in said bubble bath. It sets the mood perfectly, doing nothing never felt so productive.
The Lonely Girl's Beer Guide to San Francisco – Socially Acceptable Aloneness
Sorry I haven’t posted these last couple of weeks, there comes a time in people’s lives when there just isn’t any time to be alone. Literally, the only time I have had to be alone is when I curl up in bed around 3 am for the few hours I get to sleep at night. Drinking beer in bed could be kosher, but I just have been way too tired to do that. Oh well.
I did however get to escape the craziness for a couple hours last week and wandered into the single place I knew I could have a little quiet time, the St. Francis Drake Hotel on Powell St. Hotel bars are what I like to call “socially acceptable alone bars.” The one place in a city (besides airport bars) that you can go alone and be surrounded by other people who are also drinking alone. At least the people down at St. Francis have a reason to be alone; they are most likely traveling on business or running away from a crazy lover. Or they are a gold digger scouting out for their next victim, which is apparently very common? I would like to be a gold digger someday.
Though hotel bars have pricey drinks, you aren’t just paying for the delicious taste of alcohol to touch your lips and burn your throat - you’re paying for the endless amount of entertainment with the tourists that surround you. Unfortunately, when I first got to the bar I must have been a little early, cause the only entertainment I got was an old guy checking his phone on one side of the bar and a girl laughing to herself on the other side eating cherries. Finally around 10 pm a boat load of tourists fresh off the Duck Tours slammed the bar all at once. I had the opportunity to sit and chat with a couple from Alabama over a glass of delicious jalapeno tequila drink made by a sexy bartender by the name of Chelsea.
The couple asked why I was sitting in a hotel bar in the city I live in all by myself, my reply, “cause I felt like it.”
Next time you’re bored and possibly wandering in Union Square area and also happen to be a wannabe gold digger, go hang out with Chelsea and the tourists at St. Francis Drake. Trust me, it’s worth the $10 beer.
INTERVIEW: Missy from SuicideGirls for the SG Blackheart Burlesque Tour
Being the expert with half naked women that he is, we asked the extremely attractive and talented Do415 Tastemaker Derric Tanner to chat with SuicideGirls Co-Founder Missy about the SG Blackheart Burlesque show at The Fillmore this Friday. When he wasn’t ogling her, he actually used words to form questions… and without drooling too much. We’re very proud of him.
Sexy and fun? How can you say ‘no’? You can’t. The only disappointment you’ll experience is if you DON’T go! Win a pair of tickets HERE
DT: Since there are still people who exist that have never been to a burlesque show, can you explain the difference between burlesque and stripping?
MISSY: Burlesque is sexy tease, our show has choreography and set numbers. We are putting on a show, an experience that we created for this tour.
DT: So no lap dances or anything like that?
MISSY: Nope, we dance on stage :)
DT: since it’s different than stripping, would it be weird if your dad and his friends came to a show?
MISSY: It wouldn’t be too weird. We don’t do anything we should be ashamed of.
DT: Do people recognize you in public yet? How do you deal with that?
MISSY: Sometimes when we are all together but not as much when I am out alone.
DT: Do you get a lot of creepers after a show? Whats the creepiest thing a dude has done to get your attention at a show?
MISSY: Well one time when the bus was going down the highway a guy was leaning out of his car trying to get our attention and screaming “I LOVE YOU”
DT: What’s the secret sauce that makes the Suicide Girls Burlesque so fantastic?
MISSY: Pop culture + Dancing + Amazing Costumes + Pasties + Awesome Host = super fun night
DT: aside from pillow fights and tickle parties what’s your favorite part of this tour?
MISSY: Haha. Probably all the crazy people we’ve met and the hilarious fun we’ve had in strip clubs
DT: Is there another SF date planned for the future?
MISSY: We would love to come back in 2014 :)
DT: In case there is someone who just isn’t convinced at the awesomeness of a Suicide girls burlesque show, what else would you say to get them in the doors?
MISSY: Come, it is a sexy fun time. You won’t be disappointed.
The Lonely Girl's Beer Guide to San Francisco – "When in Doubt, Drink with the Gays"
Moby Dick sits calmly on the not-so-calm corner of 18th and Hartford in the depths of the Castro. It’s one of those rare, gay bar gems in the city that attracts almost everybody, and they happen to be especially nice to all us alcoholic day drinkers.
**Let me step back a couple notches to give you the back story: I developed this day drinking problem sometime around last week when I told myself I wanted to go on a cleanse. I walked into Fly early in the afternoon with every intention on getting a salad and ended up ordering three beers instead. I would feel bad about doing that, but inevitably it led to me writing last week’s article so I guess it was supposed to happen that way. Needless to say, I obviously have no self control.
Anyways, Moby Dick is like a dive bar on steroids. Your bartender has most likely seen it all and it’s got a pool table, but on Mondays there is a naked guy on that pool table and you can draw him. On Wednesdays if you show up to the bar just in your underwear you can play pool for free as well. See, just like a dive bar, right? My favorite part - you can show up at 3 pm and know you won’t be alone, and best of all you will be surrounded by the most upbeat gays who are always down for scavenger hunts and shots. Not your typical day drinkers crowd, I will say, assuming that most day drinkers are down-and-out semi-homeless 60 year olds. Oh gosh, what does that say about me?
This bar is the far opposite of feeling sorry for yourself which is why it was my perfect choice for this week. Literally nothing about this bar will make you sad except for that hangover you have the next morning. With their 2 for 1 frozen margaritas, $2 Tuesdays and fantastic beers on tap, it’s the best deal in the city. You start out telling yourself you’ll only stay for 2 margaritas, 6 later you can’t even find the door. So you sit back down and continue to drink.
Moral of the story is when you’re having a bad week, the gays will always be there for you. They never say no to free shots and will always tell you your hair looks pretty. It’s a match made in heaven for lonely girls like me.
The act of drinking beer with friends is the highest form of art, Tom Marioni once said.
When looking upon poor souls drowning their sorrows away with a glass of beer and a book, sitting alone at the bar with pure saddness, I have always thought; Really? In a glorious city like San Francisco you can’t find at least one person to go to the bar with you? On top of it all, you had to bring a book, HAD to. San Francisco is the singles capital of the world, talk to that beautiful woman sitting in front of you or at least attempt to understand baseball to bond with the other patrons surrounding you screaming their heads off. They will be your friend, and most likely they will buy you shots.
It wasn’t until recently, when I was sitting alone waiting for my friends at the good old Zietgeist down on 14th and Valencia, that it dawned on me. Having a beer alone in a crowded place isn’t sad and pathetic, it’s kind of badass. You reach a point where you cope with how uncomfortable it is to be in a very social setting all by yourself, and rock with it. You look around the room where everyone thinks someone ditched you on a date and you just smile. Yes, I am at this bar by myself… Why? Because I feel like it.
I can honestly say this was one of the most life altering moments I’ve ever had. Whats a better place to meditate then a space dedicated to loosing all inhibition, forgetting about daily life for just a few drinks so when we return to the real world, things just feel a bit more special.
I’m dedicating a little part of my life to drinking alone in bars now. We all need some sort of ritual right? And what’s a better way to make a real judgement of a bar then having nothing or no one else distracting you from what’s really there. I hope you enjoy my explorations and maybe someday you will see me drinking alone and maybe we can be alone at the bar together. Or you can just stare at me and feel sorry for me too… that’s tight. Just know I’m having a good time.