Distillations: Malaise at Top of the Mark 

The night of New Year's Day, Miriam and I were hunting down a building in SOMA whose top was lit green. We were walking around it, scoping out any ways inside beyond the front door. Then two guys walked up — rugged-looking, early 20s. Dressed warm.

"Excuse me," one said, "do you know how to get to the top of that building?"

"Funny," I said, "we were just discussing exactly that."

"Why do you want to go up there?" Miriam asked.

"Just to do it," one said. "We're from San Luis Obispo, and the tallest building there is like four stories. So we're hoping to climb the building and take in the view."

"Well," I said, "what I'd do is, tomorrow..."

They shook their heads. "There isn't a tomorrow. We leave in the morning. It has to be tonight."

Thus began our quest to help these two young men, Dallas and Abraham, reach the tallest point they could in San Francisco late at night on New Year's Day.

I suggested geographical features — maybe top of Lombard Street? — but they didn't want nature. They wanted a building with a view.

With both the Starlight Room and The View closed (one for New Year's Day, the other for renovations), that left us with Top of the Mark, at the Intercontinental Hotel.

One could argue that Top of the Mark is a restaurant but not a bar, and one would have a pretty strong case, because Top of the Mark doesn't have a bar in it. It's all restaurant seating around a room on the 19th floor — so that every seat is at least kind of a window seat — with an elevated area for dancing or shows in the center and absolutely no place else to congregate. All the action happens, or doesn't, at your table.

But Top of the Mark has a martini list seven pages long, a drink list far more extensive than its food menu, and nobody ever blinks when you say, "We'll just be ordering drinks," so it counts.

"Nice," Abraham said noncommittally as we all sat down. "Nice."

We ordered drinks — Miriam and I ordered from the $14 martini list, they got an IPA and a Gentleman Jack. By the time we were done, our guests had already seen everything they could looking out our little square of window.

"At least stroll around the place now, take in the full view," I said.

"I don't think they'd like that," Dallas said.

Neither did I. The place has the kind of stuffiness where you actively expect men in needlessly buttoned uniforms to tell you to stay in your place. I waved it away. "Ah, what's the worst that can happen? They kick us out before we pay for our drinks?"

They got up and walked around the room. Halfway through the tour, Dallas came back with a stolen plate of bread. "For a snack," he said.

"Can you steal some butter?" Miriam asked. Some people are never satisfied.

Top of the Mark's idea of what a "martini" is gets a little broad — some of the drinks on its list are whiskey- and rum-based. But my Venetian (vodka, Campari, dry vermouth, amaretto) was solid, as was Miriam's Sazerac. But I can get drinks as good as this in San Francisco for $6, better for $8, and world-class for $12.

Which is to say: The best thing about my time at Top of the Mark was the stolen bread, because it was stolen. The view is impressive but the setting isn't conducive to strolling around the room and taking it in the way you can do, say, at the dancefloor of Starlight. The terminal lameness of what I'd done, bringing two seasoned travel adventurers to a stuffy hotel bar just because you can look out the window, weighed on my soul.

"Come back to town, give me notice," I said. "I'll give you a tour of San Francisco rooftops."

"We'll see what happens," they said.

I shouldn't feel too bad: Dallas and Abraham travel by car, and have logged hundreds of thousands of miles together — they've been bored before. But on those trips these two guys, who met in a homeschool when they were 4 years old, engage in daredevil stunts: They climb skyscrapers, break into warehouses, scale bridges. I had a chance to be a meaningful part of one of their epic adventures, something they'd remember their whole lives, and I blew it. What a waste.

I feel the same way about Top of the Mark.