HAM~ BURGER MARY'S 6& CISSY'S SALOON

an impression by ROBERT BOYLAN Photography by JAMES MOSS

My first and most lasting impression of Hamburger Mary's is one of a place where long-haired blonds, with thick-muscled upper arms, dropped in from the Stud or may. be Febe's on the other side of Folsom and down the bend. I'd watch them devour their meaty mushroom burgers and be caressed everywhere by their adoring waiters. The food is generally good-damned good for the prices. The coffee is at best pretty bad. The service is aloofly cordial. No waiter there has ever caressed me. My last occasion to stop by, the eggs Mexicali and the walnut pie made a filling and tasty meal, but 65 cents for a thin slice of pie seems quite a bit much.

An enduring memory of the place: About two winters ago I was drinking in Cissy's Saloon, adjoining Mary's, and seated on, a sofa near the windows was a stunningly handsome young man, thoroughly drunk, whose trousers' zipper was undone all the way down. He got up and danced with his girl. He went through the motions of a game at the pool table with her. My eyes were riveted on that protruded patch of white underwear, of which he was unaware.

Not that one doesn't often see more there. Generous disclosures of ass, Lots of slits in the Levi's. Midriffs bristly with peach fuzz. Guys without shirts slumming along the Miracle Mile, bespeaking motorcycles and surfboards. Untrammeled teats for those who care about such things. Dykes frequent!

Among the looking-glasses of this Alice's restaurant in No-Wonder Land, its walls crazy repositories of kitsch of the kitschiest kind, one notices a question: “Have you a Little Fairy in your Garden?" Sit at a table. Forget the counter stools (they're very uncomfortable). Best go with someone. Look around. You're bound to observe something eminently edible sauntering around before you depart. One further caution: If loud and persistent Rock is not to your liking, your ears will be assaulted. The clientele appear not to mind. All in all, Hamburger Mary's is a tossup of pluses and minuses. Marvelous and dismally funky. But "ours" as only San Franciscans can understand, and love and cherish and....

38 VECTOR