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Libation Liberation: Sadie's Flying Elephant
Always looking ahead to a post-Apocalyptic future, SFist Nico, Barrespondent-de-doom, hides out from wayward radiation this week.
While we hardly expect the destruction of mankind, there is a twittering voice in our heads that says we can't be far from it. Come on, we read headlines. So in lieu of riding the pessimist's waterslide, we went out in search of a bomb-safe place to kick back and take pleasure in what reassures us most, drink.
Lo, what did we find? Sadie's Flying Elephant , the concrete bunker at 491 Potrero Ave. Let all bright-eyed San Franciscans take comfort, there's a bar in town that will protect you from nuclear winters and roaming gangs of anarchist hordes.
With its scribbled over fallout shelter walls, Sadie's is a fine choice to prepare for the end of days. But even with the air-raid shelter feel it's charming nonetheless, with a long oak bar, a popper of free popcorn, and a pool table in the back. Up front, a bartender named Visa will not only reminisce with you a time when you couldn't actively visualize Kingdom-Come but will pour you a drink strong enough to burn that pesky American remorse from your brain forever.
Inside Sadie's there's plenty of room to cower and not knock over random effects d'art, (though Saturday night finds this quite different). A back room, set up for cold comfort and über-lounging, broadcasts any manner of flagrant yet delicious movies. What Hochbunker would be complete without 70s softcore projected on the wall? Seriously.
So ok, there are some long-time locals that may pine for Sadie's good-old-days, when the original management actually cared for its patronage and even drank inside its walls, but what modern day establishment isn't replaced by a stark fascist despot? We ask you. Still, it hardly matters. When the end comes you'll be glad you made a bomb shelter your weekend night hangout.
On a regular night a pleasant crowd hangs out, some of whom you may know from way back when. And with the promise of Thursday night Barfly Bingo and a vodka buzz you'll find it hard to find fault.
So if you spend your days irredeemably paranoid and ticking off the days until the Chinese army invades, grab your gas mask, put on your radiation suit and drive the Mad Max Mobile down to Potrero Hill and get your drink on, will ya? Nowadays, you never know when the bombs will start falling.