You know those nights when you just feel the need for a good groping as you’re walking through a dance floor — just for the sake of starting a drunk yet articulate rant about personal boundaries and feminism? When, for just one night, you feel a burning desire to look around and desperately try to find some sign of class in a dark, sweat-filled room — a desire that will never be fulfilled? I know I’m not the only one, people.
When the bougie, hipster and frat-star bars just don’t cut it, you have these: the bro bars. These are the bars that you LOVE to hate. Rumor has it that every one of your college friends and greasy coworkers has a story from a bro bar, whether it’s a heroic tale of saving a friend from the worst one-night stand with the broiest bro of their life, or a drama filled with tragedy and regret over the worst one-night stand with the broiest bro of their life. Maybe the narrator fell flat on their back in the women’s bathroom and couldn’t get up (holla at me, Kells Irish Pub).
And what exactly is a bro, you may ask? I couldn’t put it in better words than the Urban Dictionary does, so here we go: Bros are “obnoxious partying males who are often seen at college parties. When they aren’t making an ass of themselves, they usually just stand around holding a red plastic cup, waiting for something exciting to happen so they can scream something that demonstrates how much they enjoy partying.” Bro.
When I was a poor, desperate college student with a shitty fake ID, for years I had no options aside from San Francisco’s broiest bars. The worst part was that I sometimes enjoyed them. And maybe you will too — at least until that guy wearing sunglasses in the corner starts opening up about how his spirit animal is an eagle or some shit.
1. Hue
Location: Financial District
Mindset: What on earth am I doing?
Oh, how hue do me dirty, Hue. To be honest, I’ve only ever gone to Hue for University of San Francisco “exclusive” events. I have made some mistakes here. And I have met some bros. If you have a thing for being rejected by overly confident pretty boys, I recommend this bar.
2. Nick’s Crispy Tacos
Location: Polk Street
Mindset: Taco Tuesdays for life.
Taco Tuesday is the new Thirsty Thursday, because why wait two extra days to get fucked up after work? Don’t forget your culturally appropriative sombrero and indoor sunglasses.
3. Playland
Location: Polk Street
Mindset: In the wise words of Emperor Kuzco from Disney’s The Emperor’s New Groove, “Nooooo touchy…no touchy.”
I came here to sing karaoke on my birthday. Drunk, happy and feeling like a birthday queen, I decided to do “It Wasn’t Me” by Shaggy, because why not? A guy approached, took the mic out of my poor, confused birthday hands and proceeded to sing the song “the right way.” Not cool, bro. Not cool.
4. Trad’r Sam
Location: Richmond
Mindset: “Here is my ID. And yes, I am 26 years old and from southern Oklahoma.”
A friend described this bar flawlessly: musky. While it is musky, and there may or may not be a hammock in the corner (my girl swears there is one, though I think it may appear only when you’re really, really drunk), it’s also known for its extremely alcoholic Scorpion bowls, which are sure to improve your night (as well as the bar’s odor).
5. Ireland’s 32
Location: Inner Richmond
Mindset: “I love college. I love drinking. I love women. I love college.” — Asher Roth
I have nothing good to say, so I’m going to say nothing at all.
6. Kells Irish Pub
Location: North Beach
Mindset: “This is the best night of my life!!!” [Throws up in grody bathroom]
Ah, good ol’ Kells. I met a well-dressed Italian man here who repeatedly told me he lived under the Golden Gate Bridge and desperately needed a warm bed to sleep in…as in my bed (nice try). I met a dude who gloated about how his spirit animal was an elephant and promised that our stars were aligned, giving us a truly deep, spiritual connection. I hate it here. But there’s something about the dark, musty basement bar and those greasy-AF bros that keeps my friends and me coming back for more.
