Treat Street Cocktails

Growing up in Northern Wisconsin this place makes me feel right at home, no pretense just a place to sit and drink.

I wish it was closer to the BART so I could go here all the damn time. I love Treat Street, even with their disgusting bathrooms, dodgy clientele, no-​nonsense bartenders, replay-​ready pinball, and cheap Pabst.
It was one of the first bars I came to in San Francisco, and I’m glad. It’s not too much of a stretch to say that Treat Street is one of the reasons I considered the Bay Area a palatable place to live.

First of all– the place is OPEN. New owners, same clientele. It’s a little grungy, but everyone in there seems like they are regulars. I stopped in for a quick drink during happy hour and it was the best $ 4 spent! My drink was more bang for my buck and the couple in the corner of the bar singing — You give love a bad name– made my evening!

cool little dive bar, oddly spacious with tons of room between the bar and tables. Taxidermied animals galore, with stuffed chickens, turkey, deer. A punk Mission crowd, plus a lady with a walker!

I walk past this place a few times each week. I have never gone in – too scared-​y.

Another stop for me on my rounds around the Mission!
Come in for drinks, some pool, and some nice convo. but don’t act stupid of you’ll get bounced out on yer head!

Pretty gnarly, but in the best way possible. Any bar that offers free popcorn wins by my (slutty) standards, even if it’s crawling with hairs and herpes. Dudes, it’s free! And I guarantee you won’t care after taking the 87 mandatory shots of Jack that Treat Street provides, plus another 100 cold cans of PBR to wash it all down. De-​lightful.
As the biggest dead animal lovin’, yet non-​animal eatin’ motherfucker, the bountiful taxidermy enhances the sleazy ambiance ten-​fold. And when the rosy-​cheeked 20-​year-​olds at Pop’s get a little too hyper, Treat Street provides both the closest and most tore-​up sanctuary to cleanse oneself in.. . or to contract ye olde gonorrhea, but we’re all adults here.

This place is really close to my house, which automatically gives it one star. I know, that’s pretty arbitrary, but I’m not inclined to go cross town for many bars, and I definitely wouldn’t for this one.
But I like it, warts and all. I’ve always gotten along with the bartenders, though some of them take seemingly FOREVER to finish their stories and get your drinks. It’s dirty, and at times, super skanky…
It’s a dive bar, people. If you’re in the neighborhood and in the mood for it, take a stab. If you don’t like dirty dives, don’t bother.

If you’re looking for the best dive bar in the city, this is it. AMAZING juke box, pool table, photo booth, great beer selection, random homeless people and dogs wandering the bars and sleeping on the floors. It’s near some of the classic Mission murals, too. I love this place.

This is where all those people in Bob’s Country Bunker would drink if they moved to contemporary San Francisco. It’s the kinda place you’d bring your Polk/​North Beach friends when you want to show them what REAL drinking is about; namely, a place where it’s equally acceptable to have a few rounds with your friends as it is to sob uncontrollably at the end of the bar, with a bottle of PBR and a shot of Jim flanking your trucker-​hat-​from-​way-​before-​they-​got-​popular-​again-​adorned head. Plus, when you bring them here, it’ll be way easier to get them to go to Zeitgeist and the like, because «as least this is better than that horrible place you brought us to in the Excelsior!» (FACT– North Beach drinkers don’t know where the Excelsior is.)

Best jukebox in S.F. The Buccaneer comes close, but the mix CD with Os Mutantes and that one David Bowie song that I can’t remember the name of gives Treat St. an edge. And I met my new favorite song there tonight — Chewbacca by Supernova. Who knows where I’ve been all these years? The dogs are great even though they rebuffed all my advances, the sheisty mutts! And I love the Sunday night bartender grrrl. Anyone who has the mettle to wear a strawberry-​patterned midriff tube top in a bar full of Viking beards and leather is all right by me. The whole place has a warm, happy, community watering hole feel, facilitated by jukebox bonding. You dig it the most.

God, I miss this place. God, Please create a Treat St and a bar to sit on it on the east coast. Perty pleazz? Make it dirty and cumfy, with random dogs running really fast to catch coasters, and candles that are dumpsterdived every few months or so. Oh, plzzzz.
NYC probably used to have places like this in the old days/​Now it’s just like the Mars bar with its fake graffiti and old lecherous men hitting on the barbie dolls.
I have so many great memories of Treat St. Bar that it’s hard to write a review. Many drunk men with one eye, or ripped t-​shirts that say things that I think refer to rugby or something, or old matronly ladies, have hit on me with friendly conversation and loud laughter. I only received attitude from occasional women bartenders who scrutinized my ID, but other than that, this place is a riot haus. Enjoy it, SFer bastuhds!

Lets get fucking bombed dude. God damn, this is a great bar to hide out in for awhile and talk about that band that you are forming that is gonna be like wild stalions in ‘Bill and Ted’s’… all you need is Carlin and a phone booth!
I used to know a dude that worked as a bartender here. He was cool and never made me pay for too many drinks. He got me so wrecked that I have yet to remember leaving this spot… ever. That is how good it is.
Watch out as you exit the mens room, there is a step to get down… if you miss it you will trip and you forehead will land on the corner of the pool table… did I see it happen? No, there was too much blood in my eyes.

1 Fat Tire + 1 Red Stripe + 1 PBR= $ 9
Not bad, not bad at all.

One of my favorite bars in the Mission. Professional drunks abound, it’s dark even on sunny days, and there’s always some sort of public craziness from one of the patrons if you stick around long enough. Life’s rich pageant unfolds, Bukowski style. Striped shirts beware, you will most likely be laughed out of the joint.

Ross quit bartending, which means I have no reason to go the Mission Bar anymore. I felt like an abandoned farm animal UNTIL I went to the Treat Street bar. I live on 24^th but have always thought this and Pop’s were for crusty hipster types. But, I was wrong. I think I’ve found my new home.
Within 10 minutes of being there, they had played Maiden, tons of Hank Williams, Thin Lizzy, AND Bön Scott era AC/​DC.
Sweet bar, and the people seemed cool. The bartenders looked like beauty school dropouts-​turned-​strippers.

Shady drug den. Cheap drinks and a photo booth, so I’m down with that. But I’m not so much down with being harassed by homeless men while I try to enjoy a cocktail.

Treat is one of my secret spots! Its cheap, great tunes, pool in the back, friendly regulars and great taco’s across the street. Always a good time at Treat. Good for parties too!

As you step for the first time into the shadowy main-​room of this 24^th Street institution, you’ll quickly understand why, for many Mission locals, this is a preferred spot to NOT be seen. Whether you are on the lam, being stalked by an ex or avoiding your bookie – Treat provides a welcome sanctuary.
If getting drunk on the cheap is your calling, this joint has your back – offering $ 2 pints of Busch and the ever popular Red Neck Special, which consists of a bottle of PBR and a shot of Jim Beam for a measly five bucks.
Boasting one of the finest jukeboxes in the city, you can get boozy to the strains of ’70’s punk, jangly old-​time country and the best in cretinous cheese-​metal. The bar staff generally manages to remain friendly despite the steady stream of chaotic antics from the neighborhood riff-​raff. If you have a taste for slurping suds amongst desperate loners, surly hipsters and foul-​mouthed barflies, then this is your refuge. Conversly, if you’re itchin’ to strut around in your brand-​new pastel striped button-​up shirt and line up some action, well, good luck to ya, sailor.

Animal heads, power tool races, pool table, pinball, photo booth, friendly staff and crazy patrons. These are just some of the reasons to love this long-​time favorite dive. On any night things could get crazy, and more than a little bit wild. Just recently I exited the photo booth to find the whole bar topless. It was like MTv spring break, but instead of co-​eds it was a few thirty somethings, a sweet old lady, a fifty year-​old Phillipino named Fernando, another old dude with a white afro and not too many teeth, and the long time SF resident hula hooper. I’d say it was a typical night.