"Bruno always served people if they did three basic things: come sit at a stool, put your money on the bar and give him your order," longtime patron David Gutekunst, 50, said yesterday.
Entirely not true, if you did those three things (which is what you do at any bar in America), you were immediately and unconditionally ejected from the Zam Zam Room. According to Bruno, anyone who put their money on the table PRIOR to being asked (and you had to be asked by Bruno, no ordering until Bruno says) to order, simply was being presumptuous and rude.
So, the only part of the above statement that is true is, you have to walk in quietly, and sit at the stool , if there is one available (and I'm sorry, the tables are closed, period). If you put your money on the table first, you were ejected. If you attempted to give Bruno your order before he asked you, you were ejected. And furthermore, now that I remember, Bruno never actually asked for your order. He would simply walk over near you when he was good and ready (which was probably not with lightning speed), and cock his head towards you, thus indicating he was waiting to hear the drink order. If you didn't catch that subtlety, you never got another chance to order.
Speaking of ordering drinks at Bruno's, the only drink a man could order was a martini. Bruno would always try to trick the naive patron by asking "what kind of martini?" The only correct answer was "The house special, sir." If you answered any other way, he would eject you. If Bruno knew and liked you, he might let you order a beer, but he would then look at you suspiciously thereafter.
In his old school chivalrous way, Bruno would cut women a bit more slack in this department. Women were not required to drink martinis, unless they chose to, in which case they were treated as described above. Bruno would allow women to order "fu-fu" drinks (men never allowed fu-fu drinks), which in Bruno's world wasn't merely limited to major fruit/umbrella drinks, but also included your basic cranberry/vodka concoction. Bruno didn't do umbrella drinks, so fu-fu to bruno was anything that included any juice, period.
It is entirely true that Bruno frequently referred his ejected patrons to other bars up the street. As my personal gag on Bruno, I used to send my rejected patrons to Bruno as well, thus turning the tables (for those who aren't aware, I used to tend bar on the same street about two blocks away, and knew Bruno quite well, since about 1988. He almost never ejected me, because bartenders on Haight Street take care of each other. In fact, I'm the only person I know who has ever achieved this feat: Once Bruno tried to eject me (actually, he wasn't ejecting me, but my step-father), and nonetheless, I convinced Bruno to serve us drinks anyway. You have to know Bruno to understand that convincing Bruno to serve you after he had decided to eject you is about as frequent an occurrence as a baseball umpire changing his mind after he makes a call. In other words, it never happens, except I made Bruno change his mind once, even I was impressed.
Definitely, Bruno always wore a vest and tie, till the day he died. I drank at his place maybe a hundred times over the years, the last time was a couple months before he passed away. I can't believe it's been almost 7 years already.
Bruno and I were not friends, but he knew my face (if not my name), and he knew I was a bartender up the street, which bar was owned by a friend of Bruno's. So he cut me a lot of slack, once he figured out I was a "brother" of sorts. Not that I asked for slack, never would kiss his butt, like some did. But I didn't hassle him, and that was enough.
The news article also mentions the new owners bought the place from Bruno, but that's not the story I heard. I don't know what the truth is, I just know what I heard is different from what the article says.
Nostalgia ain't what is used to be, not without Bruno.
Good Luck.