Resting not-so-gently between Robertson and La Cienega on Santa Monica Blvd, Weho’s BoysTown is one of the most recognizable (and important) gay neighborhoods in the entire world. And surprise! It’s also a complete fcking sht show. Anyone who tells you there’s other things to do here besides consume alcohol in mass consumption is a liar and not to be trusted. This is a nightlife mecca and we want all of it.
But how on Earth do you make sense of it all? Everywhere you turn there’s another jam-packed bar filled with people straight out of last night’s Matt Bomer fever dream and you’re panicking. Take a breath Nikki Blonsky. We’ve broken down and ranked every single gay bar in Weho in terms of why it works, why it probably doesn’t, and how exactly it needs to fit into your night out in Weho. Ready, set, shots!
To be clear, Robertson is the name of the club and Rasputin: Russian Love Machine is it’s Saturday night event. And we can confirm right now this is the best night in Weho. Why? The music. This is the type of place you publicly pee your pants at and not care because they just mashed up Celine Dion with “Say My Name” and you saw God. The crowd is local and relatively unaffected, which means you can do whatever the hell you want and no one is going to stop you. Insider tip: Those peep holes aren’t for viewing art.
Greetings from the dive bar of your dreams. Bayou is where you go at 10:30pm when you just get to Weho and realize you’re way too sober to be doing this. Their late night Happy Hour is pure gay magic with $3 beer, $5 call draaaanks, and good cell service for checking Grindr. Bayou might be small but the vibe is right (read: Mardi Gras) and the bartenders will almost certainly pour you free Fireball shots for no reason. Your jumping off point for personal destruction lies here.
Wait. A legit sports bar? In Weho? Well, as close as we’re going to get ladies. Don’t come to GYM Bar looking for manic dance floors and banana hammocks on your forehead, that’s down the block. Instead, GYM bar generally has a laid-back atmosphere (save for Thursday nights when the rec leagues roll in, in which case RUN), spontaneous backwash flip cup tournaments, and sports on TV that at least one lost straight guy is watching.
Welcome to Weho’s Lost and Found. Trunks is where you go when you lost one friend at the Chase ATM line and the other is still inside the Pavilions that closed a half hour ago. Trunks is tiny, easy to get into, and in the middle of everything, making it the ideal spot to regroup and find your people before heading to the next spot. Also, bartenders here hand out tequila shots like you’re Tara Reid on a weekender in Ensenada.
Located further down Santa Monica Blvd from the main action, Fubar maintains a feverish following for being Weho’s last real underground gay outlet. It’s rougher edges might scare off the greener crowds and let it. This place is a weird, gay dystopia and perhaps your best chance at seeing a dancer’s actual butthole. Thursday’s “BFD” night is undoubtedly their most popular night of the week and if you can’t figure out what that acronym means than you probably shouldn’t go.
Do we even need an introduction here? The Abbey is the most recognizable gay bar in LA and probably the country (maybe the world?) and ground zero for all things Weho nightlife. With four separate bars, a gigantic front patio and a multi-tiered dance floor, how could it not be? Just avoid the weekends. Every hollowed-out Brentwood housewife and car-pooling teenager from Rancho Cucamonga descend upon this place and it all becomes a bit too much. One over-looked aspect though? The food. Get here on a Sunday afternoon for brunch and walk away thrilled. And hammered.
In reality, St. Felix is far less a gay bar and much more a place to just hang out, eat good food and people watch on the patio. It’s scene is definitely during the week when the after-work crowd invades for their fantastic Happy Hour situation or Sunday afternoon for brunch. Located smack in the center of all the action, St. Felix is your cool gay uncle who still knows how to have fun but keep his sh*t together at the same time.
If you were to look up “complete and utter sh*tstorm” in The Webster’s Dictionary, you would absolutely find Micky’s. This is where you go after a sloppy break-up or death of a Golden Girl to realize the power of yourself and the people. Everyone in Micky’s is dead set on getting as hammered as humanly possible and they’re very good on their word. There’s even after hours now till 4am on Fridays, so, see everyone in Hell.
You wake up Sunday morning, you don’t know where you are, and there’s a number in your phone that reads “Craig from Pizza Rustica”. Assume you went to Mother Lode. Known for their mixed drinks that are actually just full cups of well tequila, Mother Lode is without question your fastest (and most dangerous) drunk in town. The space isn’t great by any means and there’s a decent chance someone will stick their hands down your pants here, but generally speaking, you’ll get what you came for.
Hamburger Mary’s is all about three words: Drag Queen Bingo. Come Sunday afternoon, get blackout and text an ex at brunch, and stick around until 6:00pm when the best bingo in the world commences. Hamburger Mary’s might not be much of a nightlife fixture but come Sundays it’s a flat-out destination and one that needs to happen regularly in your life.
Most likely referred to you by your scream-crying friend as “Ugh, Old Coast?!”, it’s no secret that this unassuming drinking hole attracts an older crowd. But who cares, it’s still a decent place to pick up a drink. Gold Coast has been open for well over 400 years and is littered with regulars being served by bartenders who straight up will not look at you. And that’s refreshing. But unfortunately, that man in the mauve turtleneck just blew you a kiss, so it’s time to go.
You’re probably at Revolver because you’re too drunk to realize it’s not Micky’s and you’re under the impression that go-go dancer is in love with you. Revolver could be any gay bar anywhere in the world and for that reason alone it’s generally pretty crowded. It also benefits from having a great corner location where hundreds of girls finally decide to take off their high-heels and cry for the night and that’s huge.
Fiesta Cantina proves once and for all that it doesn’t matter where you are, as long as you’re drunk enough, broad-stroked Mexican culture means fun! And by culture we of course mean plastic palm trees, spray-painted beach tableaus, and 2-for-1-Who-Even-Cares Tuesdays. It’s also important to note that no matter where you are in Fiesta, you’re less than six inches away from the nearest vomit, so stay on your toes. And while you’re at it, just turn around and leave.
The only thing saving this atrocity from being dead last is Musical Mondays, a magical little night once a week where weird people get together and lip-sync to famous theater video clips. Outside of that though, Rage is a complete dumpster fire and probably only still open because it’s Weho’s most well-known 18+ destination. So congrats, you’re macking on some 20 year old who you’re definitely driving back to LMU tomorrow.
The NYC transplant opened fairly recently to immense buzz but it’s fair to say Flaming Saddles just hasn’t caught on. The space clearly looks good and there’s plenty of things to keep you entertained with, but the whole situation just reeks of corporate manhandling. Drinks are weak, overpriced, and the whole cowboy thing is frankly played-out. If we want to ironically make mistakes alongside aggressive midriffs, we’ll just head to Saddle Ranch on Sunset and have a way better time.
Honestly, we’re not entirely sure what’s even happening here. Did someone open a gay Bennigan’s in Weho and not tell anyone? Because that’s what Bar10 feels like. If your tummy’s rumbling for the best mediocre BBQ Chicken flatbread and $14 seltzer cocktails this side of the rainbow crosswalks then Bar10 is your holy grail. The place is certainly clean and relatively harmless, but we still can’t seem to find much upside other than it being next door to Guisados.
Congratulations, you did it. The dullest, most meaningless spot in all of Weho is PUMP. The “Sexy Garden” restaurant is frankly a complete waste of one of the best properties on all of Santa Monica Blvd. Lisa Vanderpump could’ve given us a complete game-changer but instead dished out something we have plenty of – a stale, over-designed lounge filled with air-tight Beverly Hills housewives looking for fun gay guys to make themselves appear more interesting on Instagram. We’ll pass.