Following in Scissor Sisters’ musical advice, I treated my mom to a fabulous weekend in San Francisco for Mother’s Day. We started the evening with drinks at The View bar on the 39th floor of the Marriott. If it’s too chilly to be outdoors as the sun sets, this view of the of the city as the night lights start twinkling is breathtaking through those high glass windows.
Then we headed to the Castro for dinner at Starbelly, one of my favorite restaurants in the neighborhood. My mom got distracted by all the weekend Castro chaos (rainbow flags, leather daddies, party fliers with bare butts) that she tripped and fell right on the corner of 17th and Market. I turned around to see her on hands and knees, bowing down close to the ground. Apparently my mom thought that visiting the Gay Mecca required a similar praying position.
Denys met up with us at Starbelly. I knew my mom would be thrilled with my choice for dinner because — being Mexican — we both love jalapeños sprinkled on pretty much everything. The Starbelly pizza and spaghetti did the trick.
Afterwards we walked across the street to Blackbird, perhaps the best gay(ish) bar to take moms to while in San Francisco, because of its popularity with J.Crew gays. You know them, they graduated from an Ivy League and now have full-time jobs at a fancy ad agency, firm or tech company that they’ve managed to hold on to due to a self-imposed, bedtime set in stone. Personally they’re a total snooze but moms love them for charmingly showing off such markers of success. Anyway, Kaitlyn, Kelly, Stephanie, JP and Grant met us there. My mom talked about my obsession with mermaids and my friends agreed we were very similar.
Denys, Mom and I then went to 620 Jones, no wait, Swig, no wait, The Ambassador for Dalia’s ever-shifting birthday party. After meeting my mom, Dalia immediately suggested taking a shot of tequila together because, I guess, she could sense the hot mess my mom used to be (and Dalia kind of still is…) However my mom politely refused and together we walked back to her hotel, Sir Francis Drake.
We laughed all the way to Union Square after my mom tripped and fell again! Both knees were scratched and bloody now. It reminded me of this thing that we use to see in Catholic churches in Mexico: old women kneeling their way to the altar to pay back God for something. I told my mom she with her accident-prone visit to San Francisco, she paid God her fair share.
Mom and I ended our weekend with a visit to Harry Denton’s Starlight Room for their Sunday’s a Drag brunch spectacular. Buffet brunch with omelettes and french toast, carafes of mimosas, drag queens with dresses the size of Arkansas — what more could mom ask for? Maybe Harry Denton himself walking around, greeting the guests and refilling your mimosa? Wait, that happened too!
BOY TOYS TALK BACK: Would you ever take your mom out to a gay bar or a drag show?