The City Club

Great place to stop for an after work drink. Good service. Great drink prices. Sorry all the poor whiny white people on here were uncomfortable, but I didn’t notice anyone staring at me extra hard or anything. Yes, most of the clientele were Mexican. No I did not feel like I was a zoo exhibit. Maybe it’s that the locals are tired of whiny white hipsters coming in and messing up the vibe. But that’s just a guess.

Super clean! I would have to say the cleanest bathroom in the mission, super friendly service

If I could write less than one star I could. Incredibly hostile atmosphere unless you’re a working class Mexican man. I showed my ID on a Friday night, as everyone else began unabashedly staring at me like I was a zoo animal. That didn’t bother me as much as the treatment I got from the bartender. I started into the establishment, intending to walk across the room to the pool tables where my male friends were congregated. I was planning on saying hello and taking off my coat before ordering a drink, but before I could take four steps through the threshold of the doorway the female bartender stopped me by shouting, «ES-​CUSE ME, CAN I EH-​HALP YOU?» The whole bar went silent. She made it clear that I needed to order a drink right away, and her death gaze bore through me as if I needed to pay up in the next three seconds to deserve the square foot of real estate I was occupying in her bar. I indicated that I was with her prior customers (as if it wasn’t obvious… they were only non-​Hispanics) but it didn’t matter, she acted like I couldn’t take another step without paying up. With the way she looked at me, I could have sworn she thought I was going to make off with her cash register and her children at gunpoint.
I probably spent a total of thirty seconds in this place, but I’ll never again come back. The customer treatment is appalling. It only takes a moment to make a first impression and the bartender here really screwed this one up. I really wanted to support local businesses like this one but when they behave in an unwelcome manner towards atypical potential clientele, it makes me all the more certain that I’ll forever take my business elsewhere.
Bottom line: Unless you enjoy being treated like a lower class citizen, Don’t. Come. Here.

Security guard posted up in the late afternoon… Already? Who’s posted up when the sun goes down?
Me — the only woman in here besides the two older women bartenders.
Oldman — Is only half-​brown, and not in Ranchero-​wear.
Bar — filled to the brim with men drinking cerveza, playing pool, and listening to Mexican musica.
Oldman says that this is a Border Brother’s bar. I dunno, but I do know that Quentin Tarantino wouldn’t even feel comfortable shooting a movie scene here. Wimp!

This is an undiscovered gem of a bar so I’m reluctant to share this sweet secret … but …
It’s the perfect place to get a drink in the Mission. Period.
It’s an authentic establishment filled with locals, yet they totally welcomed a couple of un-​locals with genuine friendliness and warmth. I was honored to learn the secret to their popular Bloody Mary from the bartender! And, of course, I thoroughly enjoyed my margarita …
Truly a perfect beginning to a fantastic winter evening in SF!

Kurt Wild was his name. Just btw.

They make the best bloody mary I’ve had in years, I’m not joking. I never would have thought of having one here, it being nighttime and this being a Mexican dive bar and all, but someone in my group ordered one and I tasted it. It was so good I had to have one. They have two sizes and neither is as big as the pint sized ones that are becoming the standard. They aren’t cheap either, the big one being eight dollars, but they are worth it.
They destroy the terrible bloodys you get at Zeitgeist.
I like them better than the vinegary ones they charge a fortune for at Zuni
The beat the decent ones with the secret ingredient they make at El Rio.
The $ 5 pint sized bloodys at 500 Club come close.
But no bloody mary I’ve had in a long time was as good as the one I had at The City Club.
I was the first person in my group to arrive. I walked in and ordered a beer, Modelo especial on tap, and took a sip. I noticed that people were looking at me. The ladies at the bar were nice but the customers, who were all men, didn’t seem to like that I was there. Guys were looking at me and talking in each other’s ears and high fiving each other. Maybe I’m paranoid but I felt like I was being set up for something. I finished my beer, grabbed my change and walked out and met some of the group on the street, some men and women. We went back in and the entire feeling of the room changed, we had a great time. Something about bringing women into the bar made it all right that we were there.
Two days later I was hanging out with «The Delicate Viking»
and she reminded me that I owed her a bloody. To be honest I thought I already paid that debt at 500 Club but I never argue when a lady needs a drink. There were four of us in the group, three guys and Cecilia but Karl, Cecilia’s hubby, went ahead and met us there. We only stayed for one drink and when we left Karl said, «Wow, that place was very hostile until you guys got there.»
This is a fun place to go but if you’re a gringo make sure there is at least one woman in your group.

There is a shrine in the corner behind the bar that states: «This is a Catholic Place». Well, I don’t know if that contributes to this place’s personality, but probably so.
The first thing that hits you about this place is its cleanliness. The next is how well arranged the fixtures and posters on the walls are, and the general effective placement of things. Someone clearly is taking care of this place. The bathroom is unusually clean, a plus.
Dos Equis Premium Lager $ 3.50 a pint on tap-​a smooth, light, easy drink. Internet jukebox, fairly good sound coming out of the system.
Yes, Mexican/​Spanish speaking, but they know basic english well enough to serve you.
A-​ok for me, but I am a part Latino guy who doesn’t order mixed drinks.

Wanna hear a funny story?
If you don’t find this funny go look at Ed to the M’s reviews or someone else with well documented comedic talent cuz this is all I gots.
Soooooo…
It’s the boyfriend’s first trip to SF and I decide to not only put him up in a hotel that’s right on Mission and 15^th in dodgy-​area central BUT I decide to go walking around with him on a Friday night in search of some action.
Decidedly poor choice I know but I’m nothing if not known for being famous for my bad decisions.
Anyways, we stumbled into this joint and the results… comedic. You know that record scratching sound on sitcoms/​movies that’s made when the action comes to a screeching halt and everyone looks at the person/​people who create the offense? Yeah, that would be what happened when we walked into this place. Honestly, the problem wasn’t my boyfriend because he’s fairly dark skinned and probably passed for Hispanic/​Latino-​ish. The problem is me. I kinda have this one distinction about my appearance and I NEVER blend in with crowds unless it’s a friggin’ Legally Blonde convention. I’m serious. Even amongst my own Caucasian kind I still usually stand out since brunette is the «in» shade amongst hipsters and those women that «want to be taken seriously» these days.
Sooooo…EVERYONE in this bar is staring at me as we proceed to try and order some drinks. My boyfriend thinks this is fucking hysterical but I’m just not feeling it. In fact, I’m feeling a lot like a zoo animal and all I want to do is get loaded enough that people staring at me doesn’t bother me. Usually, this is easily accomplished. Unfortunately, my Spanish language skills are barely above the Taco Bell menu and the bartenderess didn’t speak much English. Case in point: the boyfriend orders a Crown and Coke and gets… Bacardi and coke. Ummm… not the same. And lest you think it was too noisy or crowded for her to hear us let me reassure you that it wasn’t. Because when we ordered a Corona we got that just fine.
Right about the time I slammed the Bacardi and Coke I noticed another interesting factoid. I was about 3 inches taller than the majority of the people there. Perhaps this was due to my 4 inch heels OR perhaps this is due to the fact that this bar is clearly the favorite of all the Mayan descended workers (who are genetically of shorter stature) in the area.
Fabulous. So not only am I the only gringa in this bitch I’m also the TALLEST. I totally felt like Darryl Hannah in that one video where she was like hella tall… anyone else remember that or did I just invent it?
Anyways…I wasn’t about to do tequila shots to erase my memory or discomfort so we left. Pretty sure I heard laughter directed our way as we headed out the door too.
As for the overpriced drinks? Yeah… so I paid attention and realized that those are for the NON-locals…as in my gringa ass. Not cool.
Anyways, that’s my funny story. Sorry if you still aren’t laughing. May I suggest picturing a King Kong sized Darryl Hannah?

Having heard from several sources hat this place was a dive I just had to go. IT WAS NOT!!!
This is a standard Mexican working mans bar. Loud music, lots of tequila and Corona and Dos Equis. Not a lot of white people. This place is clean and simple. Nothing fancy, nothing special, nothing scary, nothing I will likely remember.
Since there are so many good places to have a drink nearby that I like better I will just leave it at that. All useful, nothing funny or cool.

Maybe it isn’t fair to Unilocal a place that probably doesn’t even know about Unilocal?Eff it, I’m doing it anyway.
Went there waiting for friends finishing dinner across the street. No expectations… we were going to wait there and have a beer for just a little while. LOUD ass Mexican music, no one in there, and dirty looks to last a month. Ordered a Dos Equis (when in Rome…) and shot some pool with my friend. Friends finally came to join us — so funny, the overzealous bartender was carding EVERYBODY, as if it mattered.
Once the drunk guy harassing us and wishing everyone a Happy Halloween (this is March, people) creeped my friends out, I was convinced I’d never be back.

This is a sparse, dirty bar full of shady Mexicans and one pool table — the perfect place to get sloshed without any trouble, and with the potential for serious Mission weirdo stories. However, the abuela bartenders somehow managed to charge me $ 15 for a shot of jäger and a seven and seven. At a place like this, you have got to be kidding me. I guess it’s a cool place to go if you don’t want to deal with loathsome hipsters, but watch those drink prices.

Oh City Club, you intrigue me. I walk by your faded 1980’s 7-​Up sign every day, trying to work up the nerve to be the only woman, let alone the only white person in this bar. One day…
For now, I take solace in the watchful eye of your body guard who sees me safely home from the BART each evening. I should totally buy him a drink.