Cruisy, cheap and full of corrugated metal, 440 Castro is a dark, sweaty cavern of masculinity. Formerly Daddy’s, it’s one of the last vestiges of the Castro’s working class past, a joint better known for 2-for-1 specials and Levis than drag shows or DJs who command a steep cover. The dual levels make for maximum go-go-boy visibility, and the tap list is more than respectable. Just be warned: This men’s room has zero privacy.
