After three years of self-imposed exile, we’re back in San Francisco! Starting soon, you can expect to see our ramblings of life at the Toronado… but for now, just chant the mantra “Chimay on Draught… Chimay on Draught… Chimay on Draught!”
Well, here it is: the highlights of the party and our final farewell to the Toronado.
May 21 – The Party
As goodbye parties go, this went exactly as I planned it. No loud music or overly drunk acquaintances milling around and mooching free beer off of us… just a handful of good friends enjoying a last Friday night together.
The night started with my ex-work crew who showed up a little after 4pm. Judy, Rick, Adriana and Molly were there waiting for me as I went to get ice for the two kegs of Speakeasy beer that Forest and Steve had generously donated for the event. Earlier in the evening, I bid farewell to Dave (the owner) and Jennifer (his fiancee and afternoon bartender)… but Dave was only there in spirit for the party, because in real life, he was suffering from a bronchial infection.
A little while later, Carlos showed up with cigars and music. Fireman Ted and Jimi D the chef also showed up and stayed for a beer. Throughout the night, bartenders would stop in and pay their respects. Todd, Pauly, Tad, Steve and Johnny all came by to say their final goodbyes.
Jeff from the sausage shop even supplied us with sausage and kraut (at a moderate discount from his normal rates), and as most of us tore into the sausage with toothpicks, Janet decided to go to Pasta Pomodoro (which we had protested for almost a whole year) and bring back some angel hair pasta with garlic. We avoided them until the bitter end, but when you drink, sometimes pasta is the only thing that you crave… and staying sober outweighed our personal vendetta with Pasta Pomodoro for one night, and one night only.
Toshi was the next to arrive, as well as Rachelle and her Mr. Marina boyfriend (who didn’t stay too long). Toshi, Carlos and I repaired to a quiet corner of the room and shared a quiet cigar as we reminisced about the last few years. Jocelyn and Paul were the next to arrive, followed by Shawn, who came from a softball game just to pay his respects.
The Speakeasy Crew (including Forest, Julia and Steve) were the last to arrive and they came in hungry from the Giants [baseball] game. Their suggestion to get a pizza to combat the White Lightning and Untouchable lager’s soporific effects was well received by the few of us who were remaining at that time.
At the end of the night, it was just Janet, Jocelyn, Paul and me packing up the chairs and cleaning up the used plastic cups… and then it was just Janet and me in a dark, empty hall. Then it was just the two of us in a dark, empty apartment.
May 22 – Goodbye
Since Ian didn’t have a chance to stop by the night before, we decided to make a quick 9pm trip to the bar to say goodbye. I didn’t ever think that going to the Toronado one last time would have such an effect on me, but when we finished our last pints, I would have given anything to change my mind and stay in San Francisco. I left the bar with tears in my eyes.
For the last four years, aside from Janet, the Toronado has been the one constant in my life. It was where I went to relax, to hang out with my friends, and at times to be alone. Now it’s gone… and there’ll never be anything like it ever again.
Last night was the big Speakeasy Brewing Stock Release Party at the Toronado… and since Janet and I are shareholders, we decided to break out of our work-work-and-more-work rut that we have been stuck in for the last few weeks. So, at 6pm, we dragged ourselves out of the apartment to take that grueling 1/2 block walk to the Toronado.
Ok… maybe I’m exagerating the dragging part. I mean, we do love the Toronado, and we do love Speakeasy beer, and we are friends with Steve, Mike, Eric, Forest and Julia (the Speakeasy crew). Plus, Carlos was going to be there… we decided to brave the fresh air for the 2 minute walk and head over to the bar.
We met up with Carlos on the walk there. He was on the way to our apartment to drop a couple of 64oz Growlers, full with Speakeasy beer that he had purchased for some friends in Atlanta… but when we caught up with him, we were closer to the bar than to our house, so we decided to just head back to the bar and we promised to make sure that he wouldn’t forget to take them home.
Over the next 3 hours, Carlos, Janet and I sat at a table drinking fresh Speakeasy beer with Forest (President), Steve (VP of Sales), Julia (who, I guess, is technically the First Lady of Speakeasy), and a whole host of other bartenders and regulars who came by to inquire about the stock offering and to talk to Forest about the beers.
When Janet and I got home, I suddenly realized that I probably will never have a chance to ever have a night like that again. We only have two weekends left at the Toronado, and after that, we’re on a plane off to Hartford. Sure, we’ll have to come back for the Speakeasy shareholder meetings… but our five year run at the Toronado is finally over.
Then again, there’s all of the new bars in Hartford to discover.
Bizarre, bizarre, bizarre.
Saturday night, promptly after arriving at the Toronado, Ian came up to us and started pointing at the table behind us. Guys, he said, I’m tripping over that t-shirt. A few minutes later, Ian was trading a Toronado shirt for the shirt off of this bewildered patron’s back.
So, you might be wondering, what was so interesting about this shirt?
The shirt was from a bar in Chester, Connecticut (where the patron was visiting from) called Pattaconk 1850. The strangest thing is that the logo is the EXACT SAME as the Toronado’s classic pint-glass-in-clenched-fist logo.
Bizarre. It seems that 3800 miles away, another bar thought that they could rip off my bar’s logo and nobody would ever find out. Well, they were wrong… and a tourist in a brand new Toronado t-shirt has started what may possibly become a bicoastal brew-ha-ha.
Well there… I’ve got a lot to tell y’all about, but I just don’t have the energy to get into extreme detail here… so consider this the quick-and-dirty version of the last week at the Toronado.
Wednesday – Talk about a really freaky afternoon. I left the office at the usual time… and lo and behold, Jocelyn’s friend Shadee (check older barfly chronicles for more about her) got on the bus. Two stops down, Jocelyn’s brother Paul got on the bus. Ok… Shadee, Paul and me… all on the same bus (which I have never seen either of them on before). That’s a little bizarre.
The last time I saw Paul was at the Toronado, so when Shadee got off the bus at Van Ness Ave, we decided to head back to the Toronado for a beer. But first… we had to make a stop at the comic book shop. Five minutes later, we were at Comix Experience, and a few minutes after that, we were at the bar.
For the next few hours, Paul, Janet (she met us at the bar) and I drank a few rounds of beer before we went our separate ways.
Thursday – Carlos and I went to Speakeasy Brewery for four hours of drinking and cigar smoking. God, I love it there. Forest provided us with the prospectus and disclosure for the preferred stock offering which was just approved by the State of California. We agree to read the document and plan to meet at the Toronado on Friday to discuss the matter more thoroughly.
Friday – Since Carlos and I were planning on going to the Toronado to meet with Forest, we decided to invite Molly from the office and just have a end-of-week venting at the bar. Beer, beer, beer, beer, Janet arrives, beer, beer, beer, my ex-soccer captain (and Molly’s friend) Paul shows up, beer, beer beer, Forest and his wife Julia show up, beer, beer, beer, Janet, Carlos and I become co-owners of Speakeasy Brewery, beer, beer, beer.
Seriously. Carlos, Janet and I decided to make the plunge and each bought some shares of Speakeasy. Sure, we’re relatively minor investors (owning a little less than 1/10 of a percent each), but it’s the principle. Plus, now that we buy a Speakeasy beer, we’re putting money in our pockets.
Saturday – Post RENT trip to the Toronado (11pm to 1:30am). Drank some beers, talked to Steve Miner (who took some pictures of us a few months ago at the bar), watched some guy get kicked out of the bar for pissing off Johnny, drank a Hennepin (a Saison style American beer) and a Saison Dupont (a Belgian Saison – or spring- beer). Went home. Slept.
That’s all I can muster up for an entry. Remember: Drink Speakeasy Beer!
Screech! Scree-eech! Screech! Hey! Did someone let some bats in here? Is there a pterodactyl on the loose? No, silly! It’s just the drunken greeting of the young North American Marina-style Yuppie Woman. Note the little black mini-purse which holds the condoms for later mating ritual. Observe their ability to use the shrill greeting call (which doubles as a mating call, to a lesser extent) to attract other members of their species to whichever area they have dubbed “theirs.” Territories mean nothing to them; they feel that they have free reign to go wherever their sturdy traveling vehicles take them. They are quite stupid and often unable to even identify their enemies due to their limited intelligence. They tend to anger their enemies by repeatedly shrieking and encroaching upon their space. When faced with retaliation, the Yuppie Woman will play dumb and, in times of desperation, will sometimes resort to spewing venomous attempts at insults. Though their ear-splitting call is the main way to identify this species, another identifying characteristic is their tendency to leave quarters where they have been. This is more commonly known as the 25-cents-per-drink-order-tip, the drink most commonly consumed being raspberry cider, or some other clear, mild liquid.