Tiki-Tiki-Tavi

This article in the NY Times brought back some memories. The year I came out, I took a trip to San Francisco to visit Ernest, my friend from the zoo who'd moved to SF with his partner. They kindly hosted me in their awesomely quirky SoMa apartment. I spent my day exploring the city, and in the evenings, accompanied them at a number of social engagements. One night, a friend of theirs was celebrating a birthday at the Tonga Room. Pure, over-the-top decadent and dated kitsch. I loved it. What can be better than gargantuan drinks with umbrellas, fruit skewers, and two-foot straws in a basement that has a tropical lagoon and a Polynesian show. I don't remember (gargantuan drinks be damned!) what the show involved. I really want to say it paid tribute to Esther Williams/Busby Berkeley, but I think that's more wishful thinking than a reflection of reality. Still, it was great fun, even if no one from our party ended up in the pool. Long live the Tonga Room!