Jessica’s 3-star review:
me" "Uh, some guy just touched my butt."
friend: "Uh like five guys just touched my butt, I mean look at this place!"
Eugh, Madrone is a bump fest. Though a cute, and well decorated space, it is not equipped for as many people as they cram into it.
And there is nothing worse than staring around you, moving side to side, or rather pushed side to side, so drunk pushy girls, and their bewildered boyfriends, can make their way to a non-existent dance-floor to do their wasted flailing - ie: dancing.
It's at moments like these, that I yearn to catch a bus to the Upper Haight. I crave a different bar, where I can hear myself talk, and don't have to contribute to the faint wrinkle lines emerging on my forehead, as a result of way too much eyebrow raising.
And I'm sure some of the DJs must be good, but the last time I went, they didn't even get a booty wiggle from me. They skipped from song to song, without smooth transitions. It was painful.
Three stars, because the art on the walls is pretty cool, and on a slow night - Madrone is actually a decent spot, but save yourself a trip here on the weekends. Madrone isn't worth those extra cologne and perfume sprays - unless you enjoy awkward sweaty crowds.