By the time we left City Lights it was about noon.  Vesuvio is right next door so, you guessed it, we went inside, sat down at the bar and ordered some Anchor Steam.

We were at the bar not ten or elven hours earlier, but it wasn’t recognizable to Zippy.  Could have been all the whisky he consumed the night before or it could have been the bar just looks way different in daylight.  ”But I thought we went somewhere that started with ‘B’” says Zippy.  No that’s “V” not “B” thinking “V” as in “vowell” or “very” or “veer” or “vug.”  No wonder he was confused.

There were eight or ten regulars in the bar and all the bartender needed was a look and a “yeah sure” to know what to mix or tap for them.  A guy reading at a table… a guy that with an eye patch that looked like Rooster Cogburn (more John Wayne than Jeff Bridges)… and a guy in the corner seat paying much attention to his phone.  He must have had internet access.  We ordered more Anchor Steam and took in the whole scene – even managed to go upstairs to check out the John Wilkes booth and the fortune teller’s booth.

Art on the walls and of course a photo of Jack Kerouac.

We walked out of the bar into the sunlight and stood on the sidewalk dazed and confused about where to go next.  Walk down to the financial district in search of a fancy business bar that serves oysters?  What was the name of the place the cabbie recommended last night?  The Raw Bar?  We hailed a cab and asked the driver to take us to The Raw Bar.  He said he didn’t know of it but he’d try looking it up on his phone.  No luck.  We told him we wanted some oyster on the half shell, and he said he knew a great place to take us:  Swan Oyster Depot in Pacific Heights or Russian Hill or Nob Hill or whatever they call the area, and he said it’s the best place in the city for oysters, so off we went.  On the way he said that the place is always packed and people stand in line for over an hour to get in because it’s worth it! We were getting hungry and we wondered about the hour-long wait.

The cabbie dropped us off at Swan shorty after noon and, just as he said there would be, there were people lined up waiting to get in.  There must have been around 15 to 20 people in line – that’s about how many seats there are at this tiny bar, so the whole place would have to turn for us to get seated.  We waited ten minutes and  took maybe one step forward.  Another ten and no steps forward, but we did get to watch two lesbians make out in front of us.  I took a walk up the block to see what other eateries there were in the neighborhood – some diner named Toast that would be a good place for a real breakfast.  Back to Swan’s – not much movement.  Another ten minutes and we saw people in line just outside the door getting served beer and wine.  Our situation was improving.  Ten minutes later we were holding pints of Anchor Steam, and in another ten or so we could actually see inside the bar.

One of the guys working there came back to the line with a bottle of wine and topped off a glass of wine for a woman a few spots ahead of us.  She said “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that,” and the guy says, “I know I didn’t have to.  That’s just the way we do it here.”  It was then we knew we’d been wise to stay in line.  He was back in a few minutes with two more pints  for us.  As we drank we watched the show inside – not just the girls in line in front of us, but the patrons and the guys that work there. They were shucking dozens of oysters and clams at the far end of the bar, and up front they were cutting pieces of smoked fish and making shrimp and crab salads.  All the customers were very happy, and all payments were made in cash that  flowed through a very old mechanical cash register.

Seated.  What do you guys want?

Oysters!  What do you have?

We get the lowdown on the oysters and clams available and we ordered a dozen mixed oysters and clams.

We got some small briny ones and some medium buttery ones, and some big-ass clams.  We the ordered some lox, smoked salmon, and smoked trout.  Ate the lox on some bread with onions and capers.  The smoked fish was done to perfection according to Zippy – ace smoker of meats that he is, and I had to agree.  Swan makes a really tasty ginger based oyster sauce that added just the right amount of zing to the oysters. Delicious.

More oysters!  No clams this time.  More Anchor Steam.

We finished that off and the guy who said “that’s just the way we do it here” came over to see if we needed anything else – we didn’t, so he asks us what we had and began writing it down on a napkin.  He does some math in his head and says, “how’s $98 sound?”  About right.  Zippy paid in cash, ’cause that’s the only way we could, and we wondered how anybody could audit Swan’s business.  No bills, no receipts, no checks, no credit cards.  Must work okay for them – they’ve been doing it since 1912.

We left Swan quite satisfied and started walking down Polk Street towards the bay.  Sun was shining…

“Swan swan humming bird, Hurrah we are all free now, What noisy cats are we, mumble mumble murmur…” going through our heads, feeling fine.  We get down to the waterfront and walk towards The Cannery.  There’a a bar there called Jack’s that has outdoor seating, so we picked a sunny table and ordered some (I bet you are thinking Anchor Steam) Ninkasi Tricerahops.

I texted Gorby to tell him we were in San Francisco drinking beer from his home town of Eugene, but he did not respond.  Still hasn’t.

From there we strolled back to the hotel and walked through the striped hallways to our room.

What a great day in The City.