B-gals: In different posts, the girls of SFAppeal mingle with the hammered and sweaty in the city's murky taverns. Last week, it was Katie Ann Doze sloughing brain cells in Outer Sunset alky pit Pittsburgh's Pub, apparently to sniff the epic cheese of a jukebox stacked with the Police, Hall & Oates, and Huey Lewis. Doze:
Pittsburgh's is the coolest. With its disemboweled pinball and arcade games, a working fireplace and one rapey, dark wooden booth, it's a bonafide dive bar, like the ones in Oakland. Because of this, my friend and I were only allotted a short amount of time here by our other friend, for fear we'd get too drunk and get into fights, never leave, or be murdered. I think he might have been right with all of the above.Then on Monday, Ramona Emerson offered up a thesis tinged with bitter about San Franciscans' odd love for theme bars (she calls them "thematic"): Rickhouse, Bloodhound, The Parlor, Bourbon & Branch. Girl got issues:
Suspenders, VESTS!, unfinished wood paneling, lights so dim that you can't see three feet in front of you and the occasional password all perpetuate the myth that San Franciscans can only really enjoy drinking when they think it's the Prohibition, and apparently during the Prohibition it was very dark indoors, and everyone was a badass, because if they drank like a San Franciscan drinks they were pretty much breaking the law 24/7.Sounds like somebody needs another Old Fashioned. Or maybe not?