Ah yes San Fran stories...
My wife and I were walking around one night there, she had to use a restroom so we ducked in to the nearest bar.
Within moments I noticed something weird about the all male patrons then heard her scream coming out of the bathroom. She whizzed by grabbing my arm and we both hastened out the door.
Once outside she said there were 2 men in the women’s bathroom doing gross things. We laughed it off and then both wondered how we could have known it was a gay bar.
Looking at the front of the place there was a nice looking wooden sign with a beautifully carved white bird in the center of a round sign.
We wouldn’t have understood the words until we had already had our experience.
The place was called “The White Swallow”
There was a place on Santa Monica Blvd. called “The Man Hole”...
About fifteen years ago, after driving several hundred miles from the Chicago area to my home in western Wisconsin, I had to desperately make a pit stop at one of the wayside rest areas along the Mississippi. I jumped out of my car, sped into the rest area, and was "treated" to the sight of an old man on his knees giving a younger man a bj.
As soon as I made my appearance, the younger male quickly zipped up his pants, raced over to his pickup truck, and tore off down the highway. The old man slunk back into one of the stalls. My bladder was bursting, and even with the old pervert in the stall next to me, I needed some pressure release. I didn't waste any time myself getting back in my car and vowing to be a lot more careful the next time I used one of the roadside pit stops. You never know who might be lurking in there.