Hole in the Wall

Imagine the secret hideaway in the B-52’s ‘Love Shack’ video as a post-apocalyptic leather bar and you’re halfway to this cruisey SoMA stalwart. Grainy Polaroids of past patrons’ assholes and erections line the walls — you used to get a free shot if you posed — along with old rock show flyers, faded porn clippings, and drunken scribbles, all covered by sheets of Plexiglass (when the Hole moved from around the corner to its current digs some four years ago it transferred its gonzo walls in their entirety). The crowd is just as eclectic as the décor: you’re as likely to lock bedroom eyes with a crusty punk or ex-hippie as you are with a leather-clad daddy. Even part-time SF resident John Waters, who knows a thing or two about freaky dives, has given the Hole his personal seal of approval.