Slouching toward Euphoria: The Edge

This will be the first post documenting the bars of San Francisco and the Bay Area. The moments in a bar are fleeting and often forgotten for obvious reasons, but I think they are an important part of humanity. That sounds grandiose, but they are places where people can ease themselves away from the pain of life and show another part of themselves. Sometimes that other part can be bad news, and that is well documented—the alcoholic’s descent into hell is always an Oscar winner—but there are good times in bars, and I hope to scrape off a telling detail or two.

The closest bar to my flat is The Edge, a bear bar that has been around with various names since the eighties. I’ve only been here once since I moved here. It is small with big open windows and a smaller back room with a pinball machine and video games. The upper wall is lined with pictures of naked porn stars, a surprising rarity in the Castro. I suspect that bars used to be raunchier back before AIDs decimated this neighborhood, but I can’t verify that claim. The cliental is older, hairy gay men: bears, although that doesn’t necessarily apply to all who drink there.

Perhaps because the cliental is older, The Edge is packed between six and eight p.m., and then it is relatively quiet after that. The patrons spill out on the sidewalk or gaze out from its open widows. The drinks are cheap and strong. They play classic rock, a change from the usual disco/techno/screaming diva music heard elsewhere. Walking home late at night, I passed the bar as Paul McCartney’s “Live and Let Die” was blasting from inside. I dug it.

Another time, as I coming home from work on the MUNI train, I spied two skinheads. They were dressed exactly the same. Pale green jackets, tight grey camouflage pants, Vans sneakers, and shaved heads. One was about ten years younger, but that was the only difference. I wondered why someone would want to resemble another person so mirror-perfect, but perhaps they enjoyed the attention. They walked my route home, and sure enough they went into The Edge. It was early, so it was prime time, and they entered the packed bar in order to be admired and to lose oneself in the crowd of beards, bellies, and beer.