The Mint

The Mint is a SF Institution. It does Karaoke everyday of the year. Despite being a gay bar, it is frequented by all who love Karaoke. What's also nice is that you can bring your own discs and they will play them. In the early afternoon hours the bar tender doubles as KJ. Later dedicated KJs do the deed. Many singers are really good, but this deteriorates as it gets later, younger folks arrive, get smashed, and scream on stage Early afternoon and weekend days brings out regulars.

Right next door is a Japanese restaurant which will serve within the bar. Some of the bar tenders are really sweet. I miss this place since I'm now across the ocean!

I was determined not to like this place. I mean, what sort of karaoke bar receives and puts in its window a freakin’ Zagat rating? They’re gonna ride that wave of uppity-ness ‘til kingdom come, aren’t they?

I’ve heard all about the bartenders with ‘tude, the KJ (that’s “Karaoke Jockey” for you non-pros) with even more ‘tude, and worst of all, clientele who take this stuff seriously and think they’re contenders to impress the panel on American Idol.

Well, other than a few singers who rightfully deserve their shot at national televised glory, I didn’t feel I encountered any of that. In fact, I was pretty impressed.

Why?

At a couple of folks’ behest, I decided to do something heavy. And angry. And decidedly un-San Francisco. That’s right, I made the very un-karaoke selection of Tool’s “Aenima.”

You have to understand: Having someone do a 7-minute doom and gloom downtuned metal screed calling for the destruction of California will kill your business. When I start screaming about tidal waves wiping out the west coast, I guarantee it will drive out half the showtunes-and-Madonna loving customers, break a few ear drums, and have people glaring at you with that “What the hell were you thinking?” look on their faces.

And the KJ let me do it. Hell yeah!