The cooler labeled "spare livers" above the bar is indicative of the workouts livers get here. Russian Hill bros outnumber gals ten-to-one. There's so much male bonding going on that the din drowns out the sportscasters from the three screens set to various sports channels. The kitschy decor (photos of Gilligan and his island hotties, a man mooning sheep in New Zealand, etc.) offers plenty of visual stimuli for those who attempt to try all of the house-made cocktails (many of which are liquor + lemonade).
If you're looking for a more low key bar but with an enthusiastic crowd this is the place to go. You can always count on Polk street to get you tipsy and this bar is definitely on that train. I was there just last weekend and met some very interesting people. Hey- you always come home with a story to tell!