Photo by Ms. Atomic

We recently found ourselves around a fireplace, slouched in leather bucket seats, sipping insanely cheap martinis at Joe’s of Westlake in Daly City. We were the youngest people in the room by, say, 30 years. It’s clear we were a little late on the discovery.

It is–for reals–a place of the past. (In fact, we worried what would come of it when all the regulars died). The bar was packed with older gentlemen drinking bright green concoctions and old fashions. A silver fox was expertly steering the jukebox. Did I mention there’s a piano bar? Yes, there’s a piano with an extended body and a padded lip where you can sit and drink while the band plays. Unfortunately, we came in a little too late for the band that first night. (We saw them a week later).

Our top shelf martinis came with an extra shaker of the good stuff, as if we had ordered a diner milkshake. Close to midnight, the silver fox got the ladies on their feet for some dancing. We stayed seated for the most part, taking in the red hazy glow of a room we thought we could only read about.

Photo by Thomas Hawk