Clink go the glasses, chunks of ice cascade into tall, frosty mugs, the bartenders are a blur of activity: one has a swinging brown ponytail and overalls, gold hoop earrings sway from her earlobes, arm tattoos and a side tatt revealed when she raises her right arm to reach for a top-shelf bottle of booze…the other drink-slinger has short red hair that’s buzz cut on the back and sides, she’s rocking a Giants/Hi Dive t-shirt,  her intense deep, brown eyes light up when she smiles. 

This tiny place is packed to the walls with Giants fans getting ready for the game. The last seat at the bar seems to have been saved just for me and I  manage to wedge in between two dudes talking sports and an elderly woman who’s there with her husband, they’re both surprised when I squeeze in. The Giants colors (orange and black) are everywhere: hats, t-shirts, jackets and the jerseys of favorite players, everyone is sporting some kind of gear. We all celebrate our Giants no matter where they are in the standings, it’s a community of die hards gathered together to rejoice in the magic that is baseball on a cold, foggy morning on the shores of San Francisco Bay. The low roar and drone of voices is strangely hypnotic, above it all the rattle of ice in grey metal shakers cuts through as the bartenders furiously mix drinks. This is good noise, filled with joyous celebration. At one point, Down On The Corner by Creedence Clearwater Revival is briefly audible above the din, an apt song as CCR’s John Fogarty grew up just across the bay from here in El Cerrito. Today is a day off for those still working and a lark for retirees like myself.

The action behind the bar heats up as the place continues to fill up… a rotund Latino dude in a Giants jacket deposits the contents of a large bucket full of ice into the trough behind the bar, it crashes down like an Alberta ice storm. Pony Tail’s hazel eyes flash as she slings two frosty pint glasses brimming with beer, bits of foam slosh out onto the bar…clink, rattle, splash, so it goes. The  bartenders are in constant motion. Buzz Cut draws a beer with her left hand while snapping the top off of a Miller High Life long neck with her right. These two are in some kind of  groove, it’s a seamless dance: sashay left, sashay right, spin, glide…FLOW, slinging drinks and serving up food with verve and panache, all the while smiling and joking with the customers. Pony Tail has two pint glasses under the taps, as the second one is about to overflow she switches to an empty glass then carries all three brimming glasses to the bar, no beer is spilled. Buzz Cut lines up two sweating cans of PBR and two shots of Jamison’s for one guy while taking a food order from another. Neither of these gals misses a beat. It’s a dizzying spectacle and I’ve got a front row seat to watch it all unfold. I could stay here for hours but it’s nearing game time. I pay my bill (with a big tip), thank the bartenders and head out. The fog is thick but it’s still bright outside so I don my shades and begin the lazy stroll to the ballpark I’ve got plenty of time.