08/23/2026
The Night It Rained in the Holy Cow
The Holy Cow had only been open for a few months, and we were still trying to find our footing. We were building a new clientele, but there was still some resentment from the old Stud crowd. They were angry that the club had moved down the street, and many of them hadn’t yet decided whether they were willing to follow us.
Then came one particularly miserable Friday night.
It was raining hard—really hard. The kind of San Francisco rain that seems to come down sideways and makes the whole city feel deserted. And on this particular Friday, it seemed as though everyone had decided to stay home.
There were only a handful of people in the bar.
The dance floor, which we had hoped would be packed on a Friday night, was almost completely empty. There was, however, one determined soul out there dancing by themselves, seemingly refusing to let the weather ruin their night.
And then it happened.
Without warning, water started pouring through the ceiling and onto the dance floor.
At first it was a few drops.
Then it became a stream.
Then it was practically raining inside the Holy Cow.
Alexis came rushing up from the office downstairs. She took one look at the dance floor, looked at me, handed me a broom and said,
“Let’s go, honey. Start sweeping.”
So that’s exactly what we did.
There we were, the manager and the owner, sweeping rainwater across the Holy Cow dance floor on a Friday night while one lone customer continued dancing nearby.
We pushed the water toward the drain near the restrooms, but there was simply too much of it. The ceiling was giving us a full-blown indoor rainstorm.
Alexis suddenly had an idea.
The Holy Cow had a trap door in the floor where the beer deliveries came in. Beneath it was the basement. If we opened it, we could get the water downstairs and deal with the cleanup later.
So we opened the trap door.
Judith came in to help. Judith was our accountant, but she was much more than that to me. Before the Holy Cow, she had been my agent when I was working as a photographer, so we’d already been through plenty together.
Alexis started down the stairs into the basement, with Judith right behind her to help.
And then, somehow, Alexis missed a step.
She slipped and fell.
Thankfully, nobody was hurt. But Alexis was furious.
She was absolutely convinced that Judith had pushed her.
Judith, of course, insisted that she hadn’t.
For a moment, the indoor rainstorm had been replaced by a completely different kind of storm.
But we had a club to save.
So we went back to work.
The water was finally swept away, the basement was cleaned up, the dance floor was dried, and somehow the Holy Cow survived its first indoor monsoon.
The next day, we had the roof repaired.
And apparently, the Holy Cow had simply needed to get that little disaster out of its system.
Because by the following weekend, something had changed.
The dance floor was packed.
People were coming through the doors in numbers we hadn’t seen before. The club was beginning to develop its own personality and its own crowd. The old Stud crowd wasn’t the only audience anymore. The Holy Cow was becoming a destination in its own right.
And suddenly, we had a new problem.
We needed more bartenders.