A short stroll from the glitz of San Francisco’s beating heart of tourism, Union Square, lies the Tenderloin, a neighborhood that was once the epicenter of vice, sex, jazz, immigration, and the early days of gay culture. At a time when SF experiences a hyperdrive tech-fueled boom, the Tenderloin remains its gritty, defiant self — true to its roots, for better or worse.
Aunt Charlie’s holds the dubious reputation of being the last gay bar in the Tenderloin, an area once home to the largest concentration of them in San Francisco, preceding even the Castro.
A look behind the curtain at this institution shows that Aunt Charlie’s is much more than its “last” designation — it’s a sacred throwback to San Francisco’s past in a city quickly gentrifying around it. As someone who grew up nearby on Sixth Street, I was always fascinated with the bar, and had my share of hazy nights there. When two other longtime Tenderloin gay bars, the Gangway and Divas, closed in recent years, I reflected on Aunt Charlie’s significance and wanted to document it. Over the span of several months, I dropped by Aunt Charlie’s to enjoy some drinks, chat it up with the girls, and take some photos. The visits provided insight on the bar itself — but even more interesting, on the personal backgrounds of the performers.
Aunt Charlie’s has lived several lives, originally dubbed Mitch’s as it served as a bar for merchant seamen passing through SF. In the 1970s, it transitioned into a gay bar called the Queen Mary, and then Aunt Charlie’s in 1987 when it was purchased by Bill Erkelens, a local who owned other dives in the area. In the late 1990s, as the neighborhood began to change and other gay bars closed, Aunt Charlie’s began hosting drag shows. Erkelens, who identifies as a straight man, moonlights as a crossdresser, and the shows allowed him to not be the only man dressed in women’s clothing in his own bar.
The name Aunt Charlie’s comes from the original manager, Charles (also known as Chuck) who worked with Erkelens for 20 years.
“Back then, there were a lot of hustlers in the area, so Chuck had a lot of ‘nephews.’ He knew a lot of the boys,” said Joe Mattheisen, who’s been the surly bar manager and gatekeeper of libations since 1997.
Every weekend, the Hot Boxxx Girls, adorned in a flurry of over-the-top wigs, jewelry, gowns, and expertly applied and wonderfully tacky makeup, make the audience blush. They put on a show of singalong classics from yesteryear, current Top 40 hits, and some original tunes; and these queens know how to work the room. The crowds are a mixed bag: birthdays, elder gays, bachelorette parties, couples, young queers, and the wayward tourists who somehow ended up here.
“You never know who you’re going to meet,” said drag queen Sheena Rose. “Last year we had a lady who surprised her husband and brought him to the show for his birthday and they both loved the show. We also had a guy who proposed to his girlfriend during the show, which was a first for us!”
“What sticks out is when when you see the acceptance from hetero men who come here because the girlfriend or wife wanted to see a show. They start out not even wanting to say ‘hi,’ but by the end of the show they want your picture with them and truly leave having a good time,” fellow drag queen Olivia Hart chimed in.
But it’s not always smooth sailing, as one could imagine for a bar in the Tenderloin.
“There had been a handful of nights where the crowd was too drunk or out of control, and I didn’t want to do my closing number,” recalls Mini Minerva.
The bar, dimly lit except for a neon pink “Aunt Charlie’s” sign and three red lanterns, is manned by Joe, who is “stern and doesn’t hesitate to yell,” Mini Minerva says.
“Joe doesn’t like surprises and hates being thanked for anything on the microphone. He has a quick wit and a sassy old queen attitude,” she adds. “I always tell people his bark is worse than his bite.”
My usual order is a Bud Light and Jack on the rocks, which sets me back $10; not bad for a San Francisco bar in 2020. Nowadays, it’s all too common to see local watering holes bought, remodeled, and reopened as elevated cocktail bars with $15 drinks and “craft beers.” Even the Tenderloin is not immune to this, yet Aunt Charlie’s perseveres.
A tip for the wise: Keep your drink order simple, and don’t ask which beers are on tap, because there are none — it’s not that kind of place. The walls are lined with mirrors and seats, which make the space seem larger than it really is, leaving a tiny aisle for the girls to perform.
Whatever you do, don’t crowd the aisle during the shows; trust me on this one, or prepare to be scolded by Joe or put in place by one of the queens. But hey, maybe you’re into that sort of thing. The worn-down carpet has seen better days and the cracked vinyl barstools show their age, but that’s the charm of the place. It’s a drinker’s bar with no frills or fancy menus.
“It costs a lot to look this cheap” is the motto of the Hot Boxxx Girls, and that’s very much a reality. The gowns, wigs, makeup, jewelry, and bright nails add up quickly. In some cases, body modifications and hormone treatments are part of the package.
“I have probably spent thousands over the years on my drag wardrobe and various other costs like makeup, jewels, wigs, and what have you,” explains Sheena Rose.
Carla Gay, a transgender performer, estimates her spending to be around $400,000 in total.
“I started taking hormones when I was two years old so I have been transitioning my whole life, but legally since 1994,” she said. “I have spent a lot of money on surgeries, travel, hotels, doctors. My last surgery in Spain cost around 60,000 euros. So yeah, I have been spending on my body, my face, my boobs. I’ve done five noses, three breast augmentations, liposuction, rib removal, everything! Of course having boobs helps me make more money because people don’t know if they’re real or not. It’s not like Sheena Rose’s, her tits are immense, but people know they’re fake and plastic; but she gets good tips anyways, too.”
The performers come from various backgrounds and drag lives; each with a story of their own and reasons for why drag has become part of their lives. Beyond the drama and flair of the performances lie stories of their pasts and drag ambitions.
“I started drag at a very early age; the first time I put on a dress and a fancy hat was at age six, playing dress-up with the neighborhood girls,” recalls Olivia Hart, a U.S. Army Veteran who served in Desert Storm. “I dabbled here and there with Halloween and parties growing up; it wasn’t till 1995 when I found the stage and started performing. Girls always had prettier things to wear.”
“My drag career started 14 years ago at a punk drag show called ‘Charlie Horse’ at the Cinch,” recalls Sheena Rose, “I had been thinking about performing for a while and a dear friend of mine took me to my first drag show and I fell in love with it and the art of drag. Two weeks later I was on stage performing! I always say my drag look and act was inspired by a mix of Anna Nicole Smith and Divine. I started at Aunt Charlie’s in 2007… It’s my home bar and it truly is home to me, we’re a family here.” However, being in the public light and taking on an enigmatic drag persona is not as easy as these ladies make it seem.
“I started at Aunt Charlie’s in 2003, but I took a few years off drag in 2005 because I was getting stage fright and vomiting before shows,” says Mini Minerva. “The doctor found the right medication, got me on Prozac, and I haven’t had a problem performing since. It was overwhelming. My thinking has changed, now I use it to my advantage.”
Today, drag has hit the mainstream consciousness of America, but has it become accepted by a mainstream audience? Well, probably not, but it’s made some massive strides.
“Drag has become very open to one’s interpretation of what drag is,” said Olivia Hart. “To me, drag is a man dressing and performing as a woman or a woman dressing and performing as a man. The playing field has opened widely for women to perform as women and men to perform as men. In the early days, it was a way that gay men and women could dress as who they feel they truly are, that is, trans men and women who actually fought for everything we have today.”
Maybe this history is part of what keeps me coming to Aunt Charlie’s time and time again. It’s an old-school bar from an era that never could have imagined drag on television.
The city is always changing, culturally and economically. Many bars I’ve gone to over the years are long gone.
When Carla Gay got to San Francisco in the late 1980s, the city was the center of HIV.
“People were dying every single day; I used to go to funerals seven times a week or more, that was awful,” Carla Gay said. “San Francisco has been changing a lot in all aspects. In diversity, in fun, in architecture, in people. But even when they tried cleaning up the Tenderloin, it has been impossible. The Tenderloin will always be the Tenderloin, a place where everything that is bad gets together.”
The role that Aunt Charlie’s has played in the history of San Francisco’s LGBTQ community makes it a dive that we should appreciate for as long as San Francisco has a pulse of any counterculture left. Olivia Hart sums it up best:
Aunt Charlie’s has stuck around for so many years because they kept it real and didn’t get greedy as the business grew, always remembering that they are here for the customers and always giving back to their community. That’s the beauty of it.
