Moby Dick is another neighborhood bar. It’s a gay bar but has the feel of a regular pub. The building has long windows that open out to the street. A nice long wood bar gives it the classic saloon look. A slight upper half second room has pool table, pinball games, and video games. Back in the seventies, the bar was called the Corner Grocery Bar, so I’m assuming it was a corner grocery in the sixties, but who knows? There are TVs all over the place, and they play music videos, usually dance music. I wonder if they had live music at one time; the upper part would have been a good stage, but live music in Castro is nonexistent. Hell, even in the whole city, live music is shrinking. Fun seems to be beating a retreat in this city, but that is for another post. I actually did see a singer with an acoustic guitar at the Moby Dick the other night. He was great and the place was packed. Maybe they’ll bring back live music to this neighborhood.
Behind the bar is an aquarium with two or three lonely fish swimming about. The tank has a lot of coral in it and rising up the bed of a coral is a mighty coral phallus. Those are pearls that were his eyes, and coral that was his cock. But if you want any reminding that you are in a gay bar, go to the men’s room. The bathroom has a low ceiling, dim red light, soft music playing, troughs only, and mirrors that line the troughs. Yes, no privacy for your private parts. Now, for me, this is a little disconcerting. I’ll admit I’m a tad pee shy. Probably stems from my time going to monster rock shows as a kid. Trying to pee in a trough in a packed stadium bathroom filled with drunken, hostile white trash put a block on my bladder. Now don’t get me wrong, if I have to go, I’ll use Moby Dick’s bathroom, but I do laugh nervously when I use their toilet.
But it is hard to not like this bar. They have a good beer selection; the prices are decent; the bartenders are pretty cool; and the cliental is mixed and relaxed. Weekends, the place is packed, but on the weekdays, there is room to move about. And despite its name, the bar has a lack of obsessive guys with peg legs. What’s not to like?
Behind the bar is an aquarium with two or three lonely fish swimming about. The tank has a lot of coral in it and rising up the bed of a coral is a mighty coral phallus. Those are pearls that were his eyes, and coral that was his cock. But if you want any reminding that you are in a gay bar, go to the men’s room. The bathroom has a low ceiling, dim red light, soft music playing, troughs only, and mirrors that line the troughs. Yes, no privacy for your private parts. Now, for me, this is a little disconcerting. I’ll admit I’m a tad pee shy. Probably stems from my time going to monster rock shows as a kid. Trying to pee in a trough in a packed stadium bathroom filled with drunken, hostile white trash put a block on my bladder. Now don’t get me wrong, if I have to go, I’ll use Moby Dick’s bathroom, but I do laugh nervously when I use their toilet.
But it is hard to not like this bar. They have a good beer selection; the prices are decent; the bartenders are pretty cool; and the cliental is mixed and relaxed. Weekends, the place is packed, but on the weekdays, there is room to move about. And despite its name, the bar has a lack of obsessive guys with peg legs. What’s not to like?
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