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Single in
The City
A weekend in San Francisco shows The Bartender the real game
is not at the ballpark but at the social events and clubs
It was a late
sunny Sunday morning, and my friend was telling me about the political
difficulties of being single in San Francisco. No matter where he goes,
he keeps running into ex-girlfriends and when interest peaks in a potentially
new romantic interest, it turns out she is friends with, or is the friend
of a friend, of someone he previously dated.
He wants to keep everyone happy and not develop an undeserved reputation
as a guy out to hit more home runs than Barry Bonds, so he's constantly
playing a social shell game.
A bit later, I sat down for breakfast at a tasty crepe place on Washington
and Polk. Two girls, a couple of years younger than my friend, were
at the next table having the exact same conversation. The characters
were different but their situation was identical to that of my friend.
This town, I deduced, must be one serious Melrose Place for dating.
Getting an inside look at San Francisco's incestuous singles scene
wasn't exactly what I had in mind for this particular weekend. I came
to the City – as locals refer to it – to visit the aforementioned
friend and party like a rock star with people whom I had met during
Bay to
Breakers a couple of months earlier. But that's how things
turned out and it was not only entertaining, but quite enlightening,
as well.
Now, I live in L.A. – Manhattan Beach, to be exact – and
the social order of the two areas is as different as the Hollywood sign
and the Golden Gate Bridge. In Manhattan Beach, it's party first and
look to get hooked up second. In San Francisco, the priority is meet
someone early and if that fails, then start bonding with the bartender.
Anyone alone after 11 is likely to stay alone (or so goes the thinking).
Giants' games
are a hit but the city's singles take their cuts elsewhere.
San Francisco is a classy town, at least the way my friend does it.
The people dress well and like the low-lit martini-type clubs and restaurant/bars.
In Manhattan, it's shorts, sandals and beach bars.
Saturday, we went to a benefit for the Museum of Modern Art (at $75
a pop, I learned just before walking through the door) which, on the
surface, was a worthy fund-raiser attended by San Francisco's elite.
I met the daughter of the guy who started Atari and the event was covered
by the Chronicle.
Yet behind this facade, a huge sexual undercurrent was evident. People
were there not to admire and support art but to search for a new love
interest. Mixed into the scene were former dating partners, each trying
to keep from bumping into one another while discreetly striking up conversations
with new blood. The scene was right out of a "Sex in the City"
episode.
Meeting people for an outsider like me (who had not to worry about
past date distractions), was ridiculously easy. Once they found out
I was not from San Francisco, however, it was like grounding into an
inning-ending double-play. Despite my obvious charm, I was too G.U.
(geographically undesirable, a term we use in L.A.) to justify further
attention. Politely, I was brushed aside for someone more regionally
acceptable.
This was pretty much the case everywhere I went. Only later did I learn
the trick is to say I was "considering moving to the Bay Area."
Those magic words take you from straight from the bench to the startling
lineup, a much more desirable position to be sure. The conversation
then takes on renewed enthusiasm, largely focusing on a Chamber of Commerce-type
endorsement of how great it is to live there.
And that's the thing. It's not one-night stands people are really after
but someone with whom they can spend quality time. There are so many
romantically cool activities in and around San Francisco – a drive
down the coast, the Wine Country, scenic bike rides, the opening of
the Opera which is a huge deal in this town – that it's much more
enjoyable to do them with someone than alone. The problem is that when
interests, income and age groups are combined, there is a fairly small
group of people from which to choose and everyone seems to be fishing
out of the same pond.
 The
pressure must be immense. The bars are full of people in groups checking
out people in other groups while roving eyes search for any "ex-es"
that may be lurking around the corner. The local paper carries Dear
Abby, Ann Landers AND Ask Beth.
I was at the Giants game earlier Saturday but the real game in this
town is played at social functions and the bars.
Only briefly did I meet up with one of the Breakers groups and since
my friend had to make a couple of office calls on the weekend, I had
time to myself. Confidently, I can report it's not an entirely bad thing
to be alone in the City. At least for a while.
I thoroughly enjoyed Pac Bell Park. Even though Mark McGwire and the
St. Louis Cardinals were in town, I easily scored a $10 ticket outside
the beautiful new ballpark (this is also about what I paid for a beer,
by the way). Bonds didn't play – I think he was busy hiding from
the media – but walking around the place proved to be quite enjoyable.
I also took a stroll about town, to places I had only previously seen
through a car window. Columbus Street through North Beach with its small
restaurants, park and local shops is an example of why San Francisco
is the most European of any American city except New York.
I also visited a couple of favorite bars such as Pier 23 and The Fiddler's
Green, went to some new places and even managed to navigate MUNI and
BART, the city's public transportation system, without becoming too
disoriented. That's no easy task for someone from L.A.
One night, after my friend and his friends unsuccessfully attempted
to increase the size of their dating pool by attending a mixer hosted
by the Golden Gate Sports & Social Club – where they KNEW none
of their "ex-es" would be found – we wound up at an oxygen
bar in the Mission District. I tried "Euphoric, a relaxing and
invigorating temptation" off the extensive menu and while can't
I report anything special, the others in the group did feel a "tingle."
At any rate, I was not charged for not feeling anything and for that,
I felt good.
Hmmm. Maybe I AM considering moving to the Bay Area.
Be sure and check out PubClub's guide to San
Francisco's bars, pubs and clubs.
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Party Bus Road Trip: Road Trips
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