Back when I was a kid, Blogs were called 'imaginary friends' and were only slightly more pathetic.

Sunday, November 14, 2004

SFist Reprint

Staggering Through Fog. A weekly foray into the gentlemanly pursuit and spirited consumption of delicious beverages. In other words, a bar review column. By Andrew Lowder

Gentrification sucks. There, I said it. Actually, it's not a very controversial thing to say, is it? No one likes the idea of seeing their beloved, dirty, artistic crap-hole bulldozed over to make way for a Seattle's Best Coffee and a Quiznos. The only good thing about the dot-com crash of '99 was that gentrification was stopped dead in it's tracks and that now the uninhabited buildings of the city are now half-million dollar lofts instead of old tire companies and boarded up crack dens.

But was it completely stopped? Were places like The Mission and Hunter's Point spared from the crushing Hummer of 'progress'? Not entirely. In addition to the odd yuppie frighteningly skulking around waiting for the real estate prices to go back up so he can sell, there are still some disturbing fossils of gentrification left over.

Skylark on 16th between Mission and Valencia is about as out of place as a head shop in Utah. Just walking in the place, you are immediately aware of dozens of judging eyes looking in your direction to determine whether or not you are 'hot' enough to warrant further attention. The bartenders, while competent and friendly enough, are all good looking in an 'Ashley Simpson in a trucker hat' fakey kind of way. Skylark's drinks are a little on the expensive side and the atmosphere doesn't even come close to justifying it. There's no indoor waterfall or incredible light display that usually goes hand in hand with the kind of overpriced scrutiny you have to endure at a place like this.

If you must go, get there before 10PM and then keep an eye on the door for the mob to show up from Pacific Heights. They'll usually show up in a huge pack of about 30 at around 10:30. Then, and this is the important part, get out as quickly as possible, unless of course your idea of a great night is getting screamed at and narrowly avoiding high-fives and chest-bumps.

Liver... Out !!



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