Last Call Bar — Restaurant in San Francisco

Up until my latest experience, this bar was a 5 star place. I’m by no means a regular, but I have been several times now and have always had a great time. The vibes are chill, welcoming, and their drinks are great. Whenever I have friends in town or the group doesn’t know where we should go, I always suggest Last Call. But this most recent time I went, our experience with the bartender wasn’t the best. My friends and all (all POC) were met with pushback from the bartender regarding our IDs. I’m never upset when someone asks for my ID, but the bartender was saying snarky comments about our IDs being from different states and straight up saying to one of my friends, “this looks fake, but I’ll take it.” We tried chatting to her about how we all met in college, but she brushed us off in an unfriendly way that I’d never experienced before by the bartenders here. I noted that all of us were POC because the encounter led us to a discussion about how 3 of them often get their IDs checked and get rude comments which can often be attributed to Asian infantilisation. It threw a wrench in our night and my perspective of the place — that even a great place...

Sunday Scaries? Not if you’re drinking this.

You know it’s a Castro Sunday when brunch is a memory, the drag queens are winding down, and you’re debating whether to go home or make one last questionable decision. Enter: Last Call, dimly lit and perfectly cozy, with the kind of bartender who looks like they’ve seen it all—and still hands you the perfect drink without judgment.

I asked for a Penicillin and what I got was Sunday night therapy in a glass. Smoky blended scotch layered gently over lemon, honey, and ginger so smooth, it practically whispered, “You’re going to be fine. Just don’t open Slack tomorrow before 10.”

It’s medicinal in the best way, like if your grandmother were a speakeasy witch doctor from a Queen in Glasgow. Every sip feels like it’s curing whatever twink nonsense the week tried to do to you. Your boss? Irrelevant. Your ex? Foggy. That existential dread creeping in? Drowned in peat and citrus.

This isn’t a cocktail. It’s a reset button with ice.

Pro tip: get it before the lights come up and the jukebox cuts off. It’s called Last Call for a reason, and this Penicillin is the prescription you didn’t...

I never leave reviews, so this is new to me, but I came in on a wednesday night and “Karen” (I am fairly certain that was her name — lol fitting 🙄) was also a patron that night. She was extremely rude and spiteful to me, provided the context of that I am visiting from across the country (I am a gay cis male trying to experience gay culture elsewhere). She honestly made my experience quite mournful, although it was partly due to a quiet night, however I felt unwelcome once I eventually left. Otherwise, the drinks were good, and I’m sure the company (gay identifying men) is better on more popular nights.

— Karen, if you’re reading this, I hope you realize how upset you made me for no reason at all, and that injecting yourself into other people’s businesses, and providing nothing but negative feedback is not a good avenue of self expression. Please grow up and overcome your own insecurities of your lacking personality. Maybe you were just tipsy/drunk but wow…Overall though cute...