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Categories: Dance Clubs, Gay Bars [Edit]
Neighborhood: CastroSloane Saturdays presents the Designer DeeJays and special guest DJ Young Twin, this Saturday the 21st. Guest-list only. See you there!
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Sure it kind of smells like stale urine and you have to give your eyes a minute to adjust in order to avoid the gollum-like permanent locals but it's home. And like ring worm, it will grow on you.
I started going here when I first moved to the hood and wanted to get out of the house for a beer. The staff was chatty and approachable; I appreciated the comfort I found here.
It's not perfect. They got rid of Frisco Disco which was a great release on Saturdays. They did start Chilidog Tuesdays which is nearly as good a substitute. Old funk, some disco and little bit of house gets everybody grooving on a school night.
The drinks are standard fare and reasonably priced. I know some people say it's not as 'authentically divey' as it used to be but I think the smell from the bathrooms alone should count toward its divey street cred.
Closed???
Hmmm, is it a coincidence that they closed within a month of our having moved out of the neighborhood?
Some may credit the disappointing loss of Frisco Disco at this venue (due to their own poor management/relationship with the Disco team) as the source of their downfall, but I think their may be other considerations afoot!
You can't beat cheap alcohol, fabulous bartenders and a crowd where everyone is welcome. That… Read more »
There are many reasons why Frisco Disco at The Transfer (Saturday night) epitomizes San Francisco. The cavalcade of hetero- homo-bi-omni-pansexuality, the spirit of spilled alcohol and sticky floors, the musky hipster secretions that smell like bitterness lightened by the cloying sweet perfume of desperation, the makeshift dance platforms of planks on the pool table, the divey charm of the repugnant restrooms, the incomparably righteous DJs Jeffrey Paradise and Richie Panic, the crowd there not to judge outfits or throw shade or bitch but to dance and come together until every single patron is doused in the sweat of glory and good cheer.
But it holds a special place in my heart as one of the first places I hung out with Patrick M. -- he in his graphic tee and sneaks, I in my skinny jeans and moustache (REMEMBAH? http://static.px.yelp....) -- and watched a swarm of gay men try to finger his ass and slip him the tongue while I danced on a pool table and laughed at him dodging their advances like a virginal schoolgirl. Oops! Sorry for not coming to your rescue, BRO!
Look, I harbor no ill-will towards straight people -- if I did, I wouldn't be on yelp! OH, SNAP! But I can't say I have many straight male friends -- probably 'cause most of them think I'm going to roofie and blow them, I mean, we usually don't have much in common.
Well, most of you know Patrick is like the Japo brother I never had. And our friendship is based on complementarity, not similarity. He's more fluent in Japanese, I'm more fluent in French; he's more Brothers Karamazov, I'm more family Golovlyov; he likes to eat pussy, I like to suck dick -- SEE! Complementarity!
In a very short while he'll be moving to Japan, a move that bears the bittersweet stamp of finality: a new chapter begins, a new life beckons. And so a group of us -- Berna, MJ, Patrick, and I -- met up at Frisco Disco this past Saturday for one last shout.
I downed my heartily poured cuba libres and proceeded to SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE to a mash-up of Chromeo, Crystal Castles, and a bunch of other shit I'm not cool enough to recognize. When "Tenderness" by General Public came on I wiggled my ass and raised the roof and subsequently THREW OUT MY MOTHERFUCKING HIP! -- but did that stop me, FUCK NO, you know the party never ends with this bitch, I shrugged it off and basically danced in a fucking circle while Patrick ducked into the shit stained restroom where a tranny offered to give him a blow job.
Then, while "Close To Me" by The Cure was on and I continued to move as if my left foot were nailed to the floor, this fucking asshole who thought he was in a mosh pit slam danced and flailed his arms and jumped up and LANDED ON MY RIGHT FOOT! AAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!! YOU JUST STOMPED MY FOOT WITH YOUR JACK PURCELLS, DICKHEAD! And when I crumpled to the floor as if someone snatched my walker away, the douchebag uttered a half-hearted "Ooops, I'm sorry! Heeee-heee-hee!" which of course only flipped the crazy switch, pissed me the fuck off and sent me rushing for a Mai Tai swizzle stick from the bar so I could gore out his eyes like Gloucester in King Lear, and Berna and MJ had to restrain me.
Outside, after the lights came on for last call and the crowd dispersed, Patrick said:
Patrick: I would have LOVED to see you go after that guy! What a fucktard.
Me: I KNOW! I was seriously gonna rip that motherfucker's dick off.
Patrick: That would have been hilarious 'cause you're such a tiny bitch.
Me: Yeah, whatever, I have an advantage -- I'm crazy.
Patrick: Hahahaha!
Me: No, you know I wouldn't have done any of that shit, I was just playing.
Patrick: Yeah, well, if you did you know I got your back, I would have been right there to back your shit up.
I can think of very few people -- gay or straight, man or woman -- who would do that.
We said our farewells. MJ and I split a cab -- she was heading to a party around 10 blocks away from my apartment. While driving through the anonymous night -- while the somnolence of inebriation set in -- "Because You Loved Me" came over the cab radio. I felt sick, not because I hate Celine Dion (which, by the way, I totally do, I'd rather fuck John McCain's mom with the Bush twins than listen to Celine), but because this saccharine song started to move me.
My jaw began to quiver -- I had to cup it and hold it in place.
When the cab dropped MJ off I got out with her. The night was inviting. I said goodbye and with my bum hip and bruised foot hobbled back to my apartment. I felt the cool humid breeze of the evening sweep through my hair and streak the tears I could no longer restrain across my face.
Thank you, Transfer, for the memories.
Thank you, Patrick, for being my friend (http://static.px.yelp....). Kimi no koto wasurenai. Kiotsuketene.
The Transfer has a truly mixed crowd... Gay, Straight, Lesbian, Locals, Transplants, Tourist... Pretty much everybody! The music is always a pretty good mix of hip hop, house and electronic. The bartenders and other employees are friendly and you generally see them all over the mission/ Castro so they remember you.
I normally come here on Saturdays for Frisco Disco... but recently discovered Monday nights here are pretty hott too.
Frisco Disco is no more!
I repeat... Frisco Disco is no more.
They stopped doing it.
And so I am going to stop going to The Transfer.
Which is nothing more than a broken-down club across from Safeway at the end of the day. Have you seen this place when the lights come on? Ungh...
Nothing starts your day off better than the enticing smells of last night's alcohol and stale puke, coupled, of course, with posters of busted up bloody noses and scenesters. At least that's what I think about every morning when I walk by here on my way to work.
Last night, I finally decided to check this place out and it was packed with...you guessed it....scenesters. I wondered where they all congregated when they weren't at Casanova on Valencia and here they are. Awesome.
I ordered a Snakebite and was kinda surprised that they charge an additional dollar to open each bottle of Guinness and Cider. Really? Two dollars to open a bottle, plus the price of admission. Hmmm, okay. It also cost us $5 to get in and I guess there was some DJ or something. I just sat at the bar and people watched.
Can't say I would rush back here on a weekend. Maybe weeknights are less scenesteriffic or maybe I'm just getting old. I'll go with the latter.
It was one of those nights where its half rainy, half cold and everyone just wants to sit on their asses and complain that its too cold to go out. Friends and I went to the transfer because it was close to the apartment. It was really empty but they had a rope and bouncers to let in about 6 people. I thought the bartender was adorable and very quick. Cash only bar and they have a cute photobooth in the back (always gets a star for that). I was the ONLY woman in the whole place and didnt get a second glance. Stayed here for one extremely strong drink that nearly put me over the edge before we went on to the next destination.
Tip: Remember to bring cash and remember to be gay.
This is a great spot for those conflicted. Whether you're confused about your identity, your sexuality, or what you want to do for the evening you can always have a fun night at the transfer for a couple of hours.
I think the name automatically induces an evening of non-commitment - I've never spent more than an hour there.
It's an in between destination and with lots of different kinds of folks.
I spend an ungodly amount of time at this bar, & for good reason.
True, you do have to wade through a sea of drug-addicted, hipster-trash alcoholics AND a shitload of bikes worth more than most of them pay in rent to even make it to the front door....but hey, sometimes you end up riding home on the handle bars of one of those bikes, & yeah, you'd secretly (or not so secretly) love to liquor up one of those young art-school drop-outs & do terrible, terrible things to them in the bathroom.
But in all seriousness:
The doormen are lovely - professional, charming, & polite.
The bar staff are THE BEST: I have never waited more than a few minutes for a drink, bartenders are polite & respectful - which is practically unheard of in this city. On top of that, they are ridiculously attractive & personable. These people deserve some sort of award (er, tips maybe?). The cocktails are always on point & obscenely affordable ($2 well on Tuesdays), & their beer is dirt cheap ($1 hamms on Mondays).
Monday here is one of my favourite nights in this city - Suckerpunch. Cheap beer, dirty hip hop, & dirtier dancing. The DJs spin some of the best nostalgic & top 40 I've heard from a pair of white kids, plus they're rather dashing... Monday is the new Friday.
4th Sundays is Big Top - aptly described as a "Big Gay Circus," Lots of hot, sweaty party animals, eclectic & very danceable tunes, & an assortment of greased up boy dancers beautifying the bar. The tranny action is TOP NOTCH.
Saturdays is the SF mainstay - Frisco Disco. Love it or hate it, the people here are hotter than anyone who every came to your lame party & almost certainly on a shit ton more drugs than most people who go to ANY party. The music is bangin', the DJs are bangin', & it is always a sweaty mess of american apparel, asymmetrical haircuts, & indefinite sexuality. Not for the faint of heart - your tired ass should head to amber to chill & discuss novels you haven't read. & to think...they things you could have done to that hot tranny mess dancing on the bar.
Good Music
Good People
Good Times
Whenever I go, there's always sidewalk sale drama with one of my friends...ALWAYS. I blame the the cheap drinks. The bartenders aren't stingy with their alcohol, which I love.
+4.5 because I know they recently added the smoke machines on Saturday nights. It's already so stuffy inside and now your adding the smoke? Remind me to bring my inhaler next Saturday.
I wonder if this place will still be the spot after Jet reopens...
The Transfer reminds me so much of The Cock in NYC, except for the mixed crowd part. The similarity creates an uncomfortable sensation because I start to wonder, "Wait, am I in NY of SF? Shit, this is weird. I think I should sit down."
Insert yada yada yada about strong drinks and wild atmosphere, and... The Transfer is an OK place, just not very original or memorable.
I think this place is called The Transfer, because you can Transfer sexual orientation here.
I have pink fingernails almost every day. These match my pink purses, pink lip gloss, pink sparkly eyeshadow, and pink beverage choices. Everywhere I go, this gives off a girly-girl image. Everywhere, except for The Transfer.
You see, I entered this place of ambiguous androgyny and my former girly-girl title sorta turned into a lipstick lesbian or bi-sexual babe image.
Ravena F. and her husband, Daryl, believe that's what's cool about this place.
Conversation:
Me: Ooh, that boy is cute.
Daryl: Gay.
Me: What?! No way!
Daryl: Yeah.
Me: How about that one?
Daryl: *pauses* You know, he might be straight. Maybe.
Me: Perfect.
You see... I'm the lame kind of girl who isn't looking for somebody to take home for a night of meaningless impulsive drunken booty groping that neither of us will remember the next day.
And a land of mysterious attractive men that may or may not be gay is perfect for me. If the guy isn't interested, I can say that he must be gay. If he is interested, and this scares me, then I can smile and grab a girl's hand. Which will help him not take it personally, because I like girls.
See, it's impossible to feel rejected here. Genius!
Instead of "he's not that into you."
It becomes: "he's not that into girls. probably."
Great place for my self-esteem and fickle bar-flirting behavior. Next to the MUNI, which is a definite plus. Sit at the bar and you can sneak olives when no one is looking. Bowls of peanuts provided, not too creeped out by the germs, because everyone in this place has very soft, clean hands.
We needed to figure out what places were having something interesting on a Monday. Our first stop was here. It was about 9pm and the place was nearly empty. We were surprised because Yelp had even suggested it for a Monday. The bartender joked around with us that he didn't know if he could serve us because he was so busy, as we could see. He told us the place picks up around 11:30, so we headed over to The Mint.
After a couple hours of karaoke we headed back over to The Transfer and were surprised by how much the party had picked up. The dance floor was packed and they had a DJ spinning some top 40s, a bit of reggae, hyphy and all that jazz. We had a pretty good time. I wouldn't call this my favorite place, but I enjoyed the laid back attitude of the people.
I love the music here. They play hip-hop nonstop which is what I like. Also the crowd is cool, there is no drama. Also the door is wide open so there is circulation of air--VERY IMPORTANT!
The bouncers are nice.
The bathroom is dirty, but all clubs have dirty bathrooms
Please forgive any typos as my vision is still blurred and my fingers a bit shaky from the hangover I'm nursing after good good times at the Transfer last night.
Frisco Disco didn't fail to deliver. It took it until about midnight for things to really get started but once they did it was nothing but fun. The DJ was banging and everyone was feeling groovy. I wouldn't have minded a few more cute indie-rocker gay boys to dance with--overall it was a cool, mixed crowd of laid-back people looking to have a good time.
I have to echo others who noted that the bartenders are great there. The service was fast and friendly and the drinks are indeed cheap. At one point I sidled up to the bar just a moment before a friend of the bartender's arrived--I didn't even think she saw me as she said hey to her friend, but then she gave him the "one second" sign and turned to me to take my drink order. In other bars with other bartenders that friend would have totally been served ahead of me, but that didn't happen at the Transfer. For that, the bartender got an extra tip and the Transfer gets five stars!
Yeah, I know, I'm easy to please.
I'm not sure I can review this place with any sort of accuracy, I was so amazingly drunk while there. I danced. A lot. It was sweaty, crowded, and the music was... eh. But when there's a hot (and occasionally) shirtless man dancing with you... well, the whole experience seems much better. 5 stars for hot shirtless guys.
Oh, but I'm so hungover today...
Frisco Disco. Wear whatever you want -- whatever you wish you wore in 3rd grade, what you wore to work, dinner, gardening, your sister's wedding -- and you'll be a ok. The crowd's a mix of ppl tired of dancing alone in their underwear at home.
Stiff drinks, electro/indie, b&w photobooth, dirty bathroom, small but sufficient dance floor, nobody cares, nobody's trying to take you home, just get drunk and dance.
Understandable if it's not your thing.
The poster says it all, "Good times at The Transfer."
It's hard to go wrong at the Transfer. Even if it seems slow, give it time -- the post-midnight crowd picks up the slack. Almost any night of the week you're guaranteed a good time, Saturday [Frisco Disco (minus one star for using the word Frisco... sigh)] and Monday (Suckerpunch) are personal favorites of mine. I recommend wearing as little clothing as possible on those nights, because the room quickly resembles a disco sauna.
Like I said, with cheap drinks, a hot-albeit-drugged-out-crowd, and good tunes, it's hard to go wrong. The east bay invasion is beginning, but it's still a great get-down spot for fab 20somethings the city.
Oh, and the Happy Hour deals are almost too good to believe.
So I have this dumb habit of wearing sweaters out - with just a sports bras underneath. And it may seem like TMI, but there is a point to this disclosure.
This annoying habit has ruined many a dance night.
Cause a girl can't get down, when she's sweating her butt off, trying to pull sweater lint off her sticky skin.
And so this is why the Transfer is magic.
Because in such scenario awhile back, I had no qualms about taking off said sweater - and making it happen, in a sports bra, because there were a number. Yes a number. Of shirtless grinding bodies in the place. Getting down to Prince. With attitude.
I plan on coming here again, but will be sure to leave the sweater at home.
I have a friend. He's kind of lame.
He wears outfits that kind of suck.
He thinks some of his ideas are mental gold but they're pretty weak.
His e-mails are vapid, often of interest to no one and in general a waste of time.
So when he had a big throbbing member for this Frisco Disco event, I was rather apprehensive. I'm happy to report that yes, every dog has his day.
You know you get kind of weirded out walking by this place during the day and seeing surly looking folks in leather and metal sitting inside pounding beers while some more squalid folk jaw outside. Rest easy however because during Saturday night, this place goes crazy in a good way.
Drinks are mostly cheap. The good beers (Thurderhead IPA, Hemp Ale) are $4 while PBR rings in at $3. There are some bottled selections as well although unfortunately I'm unsure how much cocktails go for. The bartenders are practically begging you to get wasted. I ordered a few beers from one and was asked by the other two if I needed something.
The music is pretty good. The DJ on the Saturday night I was there had a good mix of beats without it feeling toooo much like a rave. They let you dance just about anywhere in this joint, not to mention that they throw a board up on the pool table so people can really get down in full view of their fellow revelers. This ensures some humorous moments especially when you send two of your straight skinny friends up there and watch them get attacked by some folks of seemingly other sexual orientations.
The crowd is rather varied. From barflies to partiers to people who really came to tear up the dance floor, in any case the place seemed like a great combination. Nothing pretentious or fancy.
The $5 cover charge is a little crusty given how much of a dump this place is but I had a blast will likely be back.
(In)famous yelper Maria D (who by the way, happens to be ME, and YOU, and pretty much every other identity on this site) met herself (i.e. me, Ed M) at Happy Hour here at the Transfer. The Transfer boasts one of the best Happy Hours in the City at $2 for beer and $2 for well drinks, and Maria D and herself, being the cost-conscious lushes that we are, can not pass up a bargain. The bartender here is an A's fan, which is a HUGE plus in our book, and made an excellent Irish Coffee on his first try. And we like getting trashed. Ours is a relationship of money, booze, and Nickel Dime baseball. Meaningful. Truly meaningful.
In the bathroom, The Transfer advertises Cock Block, which is a lesbian dance night, which was actually the first sign that this bar is a gay bar. Is it a gay bar? It's dark and the crowd is mixed. Am I having trouble telling who are "the gay" now? But, what got mine own panties all up in a bunch --- Cock Block features "all your favorite hits from the 90s." THE LESBIANS HAVE A 90S DANCE NIGHT PEOPLE!!!!!!!! The lesbians seriously have a coolness lock on EVERYTHING. Subarus, plaid, 90s, boots, and breakfast foods. In my next life, I'm totally gonna be a dyke.
And of course, since Maria and I are only human and also Yelpers, well, what do Yelpers do when they meet for ridiculously cheap drinks? Well, they talk about Yelp. And if you're reading this, we probably talked trash about you. Yes, you. Because you're also Maria D, and Maria talks about herself a lot. She's weird like that sometimes.
I shared that I would never date someone on Yelp. Why? Don't look at me like that. Because we (i.e. Maria) knows how you all are. OMG Ed M was spotted at Dragonfly with Grace M --- does that mean he's cheating on Bernadeezy? Wait --- I saw Ed M at Arby's with Rick H, which means he's totally not with Sav B anymore. And then I'd definitely get involved with Peter M somehow (the man's a seducer, and so is his broken penis). And Stormi and I would make beautiful Blasian babies. And I'd dump Keane and he'd start 18 talk threads about it vilifying me. In turn, Omid T and Luis M would promptly respond with around 23 sexually inappropriate comments on said threads. And didn't Ed have a thing with JT F once? And Carla D will just be drunk and confused like she always is. Cause that's how Carla D rolls.
It's all moot, remember, because we're all Maria D anyways.
So yeah, no dating on Yelp. Sorry ladies, cause I know you all want summa this.
On the other hand, one night stands are fine. Cause I'm slutty. And the only thing I require is two Sausage McMuffins the next morning. Cause I'm also classy.
This review better get me laid. Or at least a McMuffin.
Monday night at the transfer- known as "suckerpunch"
are super rad!
used to have dollar pabst - amazing...
but then they switched to dollar hamms? yuck ha.
but i've been out of town for the past few weeks...soo maybe they're back to pbr...
seems like there are usually 2 djs - the broad is sub par compared to the later awesome fun dj guy...or maybe it's because i'm usually way more drunky at the end of the night so more likely to "loooove every song that comes on" hahaha...
i think it's known as a gay bar - but it's like a midwest-style gay bar where it seems like a group of straight kids bring their 1 gay friend ha. that's why i bring my best friend gia - she a gay and i'm a straight...we're eachother's wingmen ha.
what else what else...oh it gets sooo hot on that dance floor - windows dripping type hot. so you're better off freezing on the walk there or wearing a shirt that you don't care to sit down and forget about.
saturday nights - frisco disco are also great - but i've only been to this night once or twice because i work at 530am on sundays bummmer.
you should check this night out too though.
OH OH OH I ALMOST FORGOT!! STELLAR BANDS PLAY HERE!!
i saw glass candy here...if you weren't there, you blew it. it was great.
yelply yours,
jen
UPDATE:
i found your $3 bill here.
*also, good for the younger set. 30somethings not so much. TIIIRED.
-----------------------
5 stars for the ever smiling bartenders.
0 stars for the dudes I caught passed out mid pump in the bathroom.
5 stars redeemed for the other patrons in the bathroom line who told them to get the fuck out b/c WE NEED TO PISS. yay for solidarity.
5 stars for Bus Station John playing Positive Force and no MJ or Donna Summer. Way to have standards!!
5 stars for pushing aside all you motherf*ckers who park it on the dancefloor. NO ESTACIONE ARSE!
0 stars b/c this shit is a sweatbox. and i am CLAUSTROPHOBIC. and also dont want your sweat on me.
Average: 4 stars
Warning: if you are one of those annoying self esteem less people who can't shut your trap about how much you hate "hipsters", then please don't come here and ruin my enjoyment of Frisco Disco or any of their other excellent dance parties. Once this walking boot comes off, you can find me at the Transfer, busting some awesome dance moves and possibly being hit on by a hot ass FTM or perhaps exchanging interpretive dance moves across the room with a guy in a "Bridget Jones 2" promotional tshirt.
This place is just pure fun and reminds me of everything life should be when you are 25.
This place used to be a total and complete shit hole full of the oddest mix of social misfits you could find in one room together.
It has now become a hopping, dingy gay/lesbian dance club for a younger, prettier, hipper crowd.
If the drinks weren't so cheap I would hate this place.
Remember how in the movie She's All That, Laney is a total nerd and then suddenly she takes off her glasses and is the hottest girl at the prom?
I don't, because I don't watch chick flicks. But maybe you remember.
Last night I went to The Transfer. When I got there at around 10 pm, it was the world's most unassuming bar. My friends were drinking in one corner, and there were like 5 other people spread out around the entire room. I ended up facing into the corner for a while.
While I was turned around, Freddie Prinze, Jr. must have shown up and somehow charmed The Transfer into taking off its glasses. Suddenly I was in a completely different bar. It was like playing a Highlights find the differences game:
* no lighting concept -- christmas lights everywhere
* no decorations -- pirate themed decorations
* no people -- people dressed as pirates
* no smell -- entire bar REEKS of weed
* pool table -- stage for a drag queen and a man dressed as some sort of fish to grind with each other
* empty women's room -- women's room containing a man doing his business while WEARING A LARGE INNERTUBE
It was...confusing. I'm still trying to figure out both what the hell went down while I was facing the corner and how the hell a man pees while standing and innertubed.
One of my biggest pet peeves is when crusty old salty dog bars (or lonely aging queen bars) change ownership and thrust open their doors to the under-25 set and the hipoisie (tm Tom L.)
But when such a bar has $2 well drinks at happy hour, and discounts based on your Muni ridership, well, you can find me on the corner stool. Because I am a lover of public transit, and also really affordable alcohol.
But I reserve the right to grumble about the old days.
Oh, also this place throws some bomb ass fucking dance parties now.
Um, if you want to party hard this is the place.
I went for Frisco Disco and it was very fun. A good scene that is well put together and the beats never ever stopped. It was actually the way a good club should be.
Yes, there is hipster B.O, but this place outweighs or shiesty places like Popscene...
How do I say this without offending? There is no way, and I'm not the kind of girl to hold her tongue so, I'm just going to say it.
The Transfer is where, essentially, I realize flat chested girls with no rhythm get more play than I do. Seriously. Wat up wit dat? Really? I'm a boobalicious black woman with rhythm so dynamic I'll have you seeing stars. Yes... that type of rhythm too and yes, those type of stars too. However, it was around 11:30 p.m., after I had had one too many drinks spilled on my shoe and one too many elbows jammed into my back that I realized this Dynamic Dancin' Double D Diva gets, straight up, no respect in this bar.
THE PLAY-BY-PLAY:
10:00...
Rather emply, rather good. Just a few people; regulars perhaps. Some shimmying and shaking to the DJ on set. Concept, which took going into the bathroom to fully get (muni transfers glued to the wall), was a cute one. Bartenders playing Tod Browning's "Freaks" on the telly; disturbing, adventurous, different, cool. Chill vibe. Lemon drop, makers mark manhattan superb. Gay, straight, whateva.. people seem cool.
Cut to 11:30...
One drink spilled on my shoe. No apology. Bartender throwing dollar change at me. (You know those moments when you think "Oh, I am SO going to Yelp this. The dollar tossed at me rudely was SO one of those moments.) Not a place, not a pat down, not a set... a throw which seems ruder than rude, even considering the swarm of patrons. Actually offended by bartenders action. Another drink spilled on shoe. Again, no apology. Introductions and conversations with people who had one eye on the bar and another on rhythmically challenged girls behind me. Get vibe of "You're not cool enough to partake in conversation with me" from several patrons. Elbow in ribs, bumped into, knocked into, too tight, can't breathe... too... many... people... LET ME OUT!!!!
Walk out to street. Fresh air... ahhhhhhh. Forgot scarf. Turn around, open door to re-enter and find scarf. One man exits door... two men exit door... three men exit door... four men exit door... five men exit door. No man offers to hold door for woman holding door. Offended. Find scarf. Leave. Dynamic Dancin' Double D Diva "transfers" her butt on down to regular bar where the employees are respectful and the crowd is engaging and courteous.
THE BREAKDOWN:
Pretty much disgusted and offended by every aspect of The Transfer. Well, except the makers mark manhattan and the bathroom, which I suppose is what The Transfer is responsible for.
Good establishment, so-so employees, rotten crowd.
Hot, sweaty, gay dancing fun!
(with a peppering of straight people for the sake of diversity)
Good times!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After 9pm the bar turns into a sweaty mass of undulating bodies.
Hey Dunzo!!! Shatangi found that three-dollar bill you were looking for! It was not behind that 7'3" Kajagoogoo lookin dude like I originally thought. Frisco-Disco a la 80's was Le Bombe!! We had such a good time watching and participating in the rump shaking. Too bad we forgot our shades. We could have gotten up on the pool table with the other, popular "club kids". Great bartenders and friendly staff.
Shatangi told you...
The Good TImes are Back now that the Transfer has been taken over by the same "make it pretty" nightlift juggernaut that brought us Lime, the BOC and Sneaky Tiki.
I am not sure if they are renaming the place Lalo's or just calling it that on Sunday's but back in 2003, all the gays took their end of weekend low fundage wallets over to Lalo's (where Lime is now) for a cheap drinkfest of tequila and Corona and swayed to house and hiphop mashes despite being herded in like cattle in a barn.
A person has never spent so little to get so trashed and to be all done by 8 pm.
Lalo's runs from 3 to 8 pm. The tequila is literally poured into your mouth as soon as you walk in the door. Pay your $3 cover and hey there's more tequila being poured in your mouth. Then you spend $6 for a 16 ounce margarita yee hoo, your buzzed and you haven't even entered the main room where the pool tables are covered and shirtless muscle monkeys are grinding in their underwear. A muscley, college jock looking guy with baseball hat is pouring tequila down his prostethic (we hope) 2 foot long penis which you can drink out of the tip of-i kid you not.
The music is hip hop, the crowd is hot and the attitude is sexy. Get on over today.
Lost my Frisco Disco cherry last night at the Transfer.
Dance floor area a little larger than my living room but great for packing in the crowds. Cute, efficient, and generous bartenders that actually remembered my drink and just made it as I came up without waiting for me to ask. $5 Vodka Tonic in a pint glass? Yes please!
The crowd was sexual ambiguity at its best, which is how I like my dance parties! People dancing with total strangers, and everyone having a ball. I grinded, swayed, stomped, and shimmied with men, women, would-be men, might-be women, and I think one gnome.
You need to make quite the impression on me to get me to drive out into the city and fight for parking on a Saturday night. The Transfer, and Frisco Disco by extension, did their job and did it well.
You've got yourself a new fan....whether you like it or not.
It never fails; I go to the Transfer and end up getting into trouble (the good kind, of course)! Probably because I meet my pal there on Thursdays for buck night ($1 well drinks and $2 doubles). Can't beat that. I recently befriended the new bartender, Danny. He rocks, he remembers my name (just like Cheers!), and he's super fun to chat with.
My advice is to get there early between 9pm and 10pm and have a few drinks while waiting for the show to begin... the crowd tends to be very entertaining and picks up around 11. I have gawked, slack-jawed, at some truly interesting dancers here. Good stuff for us people watchers!
The new decor is an improvement, love the hub caps. The tile floor leads me to believe that they might actually hose this place down after a big party, at least that's what it feels like. I understand, I usually need a hosing off after a good party too. The music is alright (minus 1 star) most nights. However, there is a faint smell of bathroom cleaner that wafts through the bar every so often. Just have a few more dollar drinks and you won't even notice...
I've been to The Transfer a couple of times usually on MONDAY nights for SUCKERPUNCH, the DJ's RULE. They play dirty raps, bay slaps, and great dance music. I heard it was a gay bar but the crowd was really mixed. A super fun spot with a killer dance floor.
GO TO SUCKERPUNCH MONDAY NIGHTS!
I like to start my nights early, and on Frisco Disco night that saves me five big uns. That's right, I get there so goddamn early, they ain't checking the door yet. 9:30, baby.
This is one fun night. I like to dance with awesome strangers and awesome strangers like to dance with me. I hit the store just around the corner when my pocketbook gets light. I go back and get my dance on. The dancefloor is a blender, but I am the outlet. When I plug in, we stir things up. We don't just stir things up, we grate, chop, pulverize, we even make fresh juice with the appropriate attachment.
I am now a fixture and no one will ever stop me.
I am fucking single, San Francisco. Watch yerself.
UPDATE:
Yeah, I'm over it. But it can keep the stars for all the good times we had.
Hates it.
Way too packed, way too hot (not in the sexy way), and you'll be up to your eyeball's in hipster b.o. Bathroom is nasty. Some of the idiot clientele wear sunglasses INDOORS. Gimme an effin' break.
I'm not usually a one-star guy, but I gave this place several tries (because a friend seems to think it is the bee's knees) and I have been sorely disappointed each time. This place just does not bring out my inner happy.
Oh yeah - the drinks taste like cat litter & ass.
Chill bar with nice thump-thump music and a pool table. Good place for a beer after work. Better than Amber for the non-smoker. But not a good place to pick up girls... if you're a boy.
(Highlight: I met not one but TWO other Tessas! I totally thought they were just hitting on me but we did a little ID swap and sure enough, we made a perfect Tessa Triangle.)
Grimy, rough, dark and gloomy....this bar is like the man your mother told you to run away from.
Too bad it's so much fun and makes you feel dirty in all the right ways.
You can even document your "bad girl" moments in the photo booth!
There's even a quick getaway just steps out of the door, hop on ANY muni and you're GONE!!
First off: Covers are lame.
Don't be surprised if the dance floor gets super crowded, this place is tiny.
The bartenders are friendly. And they've got $3 PBR for you big spenders.
Bonus for having a photobooth.
Definitely a good place to go to if you plan on getting drunk and ripped and showing off those dance moves you don't have. Because it'll be so crowded that no one will see you do the funky chicken behind the sea of tattoo sleeves. Trendy below-thirty clientele with an affinity for getting shit-faced and making out in the bathroom.
Or maybe that was just the couple who decided to slobber all over themselves, and then me, while I was ever so innocently waiting for the (one) stall. Which was by far one of the nazzzztiest I'd ever been to, by the way. I guess they got really turned on by the wavering smell of piss and spilt Tecate.
2 for 1 drinks
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Neighborhood: SOMA
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Category: Gay Bars
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Category: Dance Clubs
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