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Read Text Only: Nightlife
Madrone Art Bar
by Brienne Tuttle


Dearest Madrone, How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. Although I won’t be doing it on my fingers; they are too shaky after another night well spent in your loving, alcoholic embrace. Instead, I shall write them:

Your location on Divisadero at Fell could not be more superb. Not only is it almost perfectly smack dab in the middle of San Francisco, but it is also easily accessible by foot and MUNI. Well done! Also, thank you oh so much for allowing us to bring in outside food. Little Star Pizza tastes so much better when I have one of your ice cold brews to wash it down with.

Now, to not say anything about your ambiance, that would make me a real fool. Your lounge is a marvelous world of vintage, saddled effortlessly alongside hipster trendiness. An ever changing array of local San Francisco artwork dances along your walls interrupted only by Bambi supporting some lovely weaponry on his antlers. Your bar is small and precious. Although, that’s only to make room for the gyrating crowd that takes to the dance floor nightly, and your beautiful tenders of said bar make myself and all other patrons feel welcome, as they mix your overwhelming array of spirits.

The spirits. The cocktails. The beer. It all overflows with a touch of eccentricity and a dash of attitude. I could drink your pineapple infused vodkas all night long. They are lovingly poured over ice, and thanks to Angela (a serious Angel behind your bar), are served with a splash of soda just the way I like it. Another honorable mention goes to the Herbie Hancock Gimlet: an intoxicating mix of fresh watermelon, which is carefully smashed into the bottom of the glass, and then mixed with watermelon infused vodka and lime. It is like a summer day in liquid form. There are a few certain gentlemen in this great city I would gladly order a shot of Hennessey for that’s chased with a slap across the face delivered by the bartender, but that’s a story for another time.

“Girl I must waaaarrrrn youuuuu....” There I go, off topic again. The lyrics of Poison are pouring out of me. You see I was re-living the last night I spent at your place, Madrone. It was 90s Night, as I got lost on the dance floor with all the other twenty-something’s that were also instantly transported back to their own high school proms (minus the braces and awkward bump and grinds). Oh to revel in the 90s, I have to give you mad props for this indulgence.

So you see, I just can’t seem to enjoy a drink these days unless it’s under your roof, Madrone. You do me right and I think I can say with certainty, that given the chance, most of the population of San Francisco that are of drinking age would want to sign their names along mine at the bottom of this letter. A love letter, to you.

Yours, Brienne, drinking legally since 03’

500 Divisadero St (at Fell)
San Francisco, CA 94117