Cartographically true, it refers to the city’s famously gay mecca. But these days, there are concerns that the neighborhood is becoming slightly less bent.
A Different Light Bookstore, which specialized in gay and lesbian literature for 26 years, shut last weekend — the latest in a series of closings of longtime businesses that were gay-owned and operated or catered to gay clientele. The neighborhood is littered with empty storefronts.
Amid this gloom, however, there is one burst of excitement that has crowds lining up, drawing visitors from throughout the Bay Area and beyond: Sunday brunch at Lime on Market.
With “bottomless Mimosas,” the restaurant and club has become so popular that it can take weeks to get a reservation. Patrons regularly defy stanchions and block sidewalks as they wait to cram inside where techno pop music blares at rock concert decibels.
“It’s the only place like L.A. in San Francisco,” a British man said last month as he was shooed inside by the bouncer.
The crowd, to a large extent, is straight.
But even in a part of the city known for anything-goes partying, the scene at Lime has soured some residents and led them to ask, What’s happening to our neighborhood?
Scott Wiener, who represents the neighborhood on the Board of Supervisors, said his office had received a litany of complaints in recent months.
“A lot of extremely drunk people behaving obnoxiously loud, urinating in public, vomiting,” Mr. Wiener said, running through a list of concerns from constituents. “A few accounts of homophobic slurs,” he added, but he thought those incidents were rare and asked that they be played down.
There have also been reports of locals’ casting anti-straight aspersions at Lime patrons.
But most of the frustrations seem to center on the idea that outsiders have invaded the Castro primarily for one reason: to get drunk.
Visits to Lime on several Sunday afternoons in March and April documented a number of incidents: patrons drinking what appeared to be alcohol outside the club; customers so groggy they had to be held upright; people staggering from the club and walking directly into moving traffic; and puddles of vomit sullying the block.
“It’s an issue because of the behavior that’s happening as a result of overserving,” said Andrea Aiello, executive director of the Castro/Upper Market Community Benefit District, a neighborhood improvement program.
For $7, customers can consume unlimited Mimosas (bottomless Bloody Marys are $12) — a recession-friendly offering. Lime is one of several establishments in the city now serving alcohol this way.
Such all-you-can-drink promotions are legal, but “definitely a concern, as is anything that promotes intoxication,” said John Carr, spokesman for the California Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control. “It’s frowned upon.”
The results of this bargain-basement inebriation have overwhelmed some nearby businesses. There have been reports of brawling, and male customers have been spotted relieving themselves on the walls of nearby shops and residences. On Sundays, two businesses have posted “no restrooms” signs to keep tipsy Lime customers away. (The lines can be long for Lime’s restrooms.)
Ms. Aiello said that her organization reached out last month to the club’s owner, Greg Bronstein, to work on resolving the problems, but that he was unresponsive. Mr. Bronstein twice scheduled interviews for this column, but failed to follow through and stopped responding to messages.
Mr. Wiener said he had spoken to Mr. Bronstein and elicited a promise to control customers. On one recent Sunday the club’s exasperated doorman, who looked like a male Grace Jones, was seen struggling to control the crowd to little avail.
Scott?James?is an Emmy-winning television journalist and novelist who lives in San Francisco.
sjames@baycitizen.org
