In one of America’s most liberal cities, this is where San Franciscans come when they need a place to process the latest political bombshell. So they did Monday, gathering after President Biden ended his reelection campaign and ceded the spotlight to one of the Bay Area’s own. In confessional tones, person after person reported how their mood had changed overnight: from depression to delight, anxiety to excitement.
The preceding weeks had been traumatizing, the previous 24 hours life-affirming.
“I think for the first time in months I feel so optimistic,” said Chandru Murthi, a 77-year-old resident who was the first in the circle to share.
Manny Yekutiel imagined exactly this type of discussion when he founded his hybrid coffee shop, bar, bookstore and event space in the Mission district in 2018. The 34-year-old political science major is a longtime Democratic fundraiser and strategist, and he decided to open shop after Donald Trump’s election.
Since then, Manny’s has become a pillar of the city’s political scene, a physical retreat for like-minded souls to talk at a time when so much discourse is chronically online. The back of the cafe is decorated like a living room, with floor lamps, house plants, even a red vintage rug from Yekutiel’s childhood home in Los Angeles.
California Gov. Gavin Newsom, Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer and first lady Jill Biden are among the prominent Democrats who have all stopped in. Vice President Harris, now the party’s likely ticket-topper in the November election, is also a fan. “You’re amazing,” she told Yekutiel during one of her visits.
For anyone looking to do a wellness check on the psyche of a deeply blue stronghold at this historic moment, Manny’s is where to go.
Responding to Biden’s news, Yekutiel reworked the week’s schedule, starting with Monday’s session. He kicked things off as discussion leader. “Let’s ground this in how we feel right now,” he told the crowd of about three dozen people. “How are we feeling as Democrats, as San Franciscans, as people who have a lot at stake in this election?”
“I feel excited, I feel hopeful,” said Angelina Polselli, 24. “It feels like everyone finally woke up from a long, long nap.”
As Manny’s resident Gen Z expert, she noted that young people have some concerns with Harris, particularly her record as a prosecutor. But there’s also the “brat” factor, which Polselli had to explain to an audience who appeared largely unfamiliar with the catalogue of Charli XCX.
“It feels exciting to have a young candidate who is energized and youthful and who is also talking to young people and using the language we use,” she added.
Soon, however, that familiar fear crept back in.
“I’m a little bit worried about a San Francisco liberal carrying the battleground states,” said Dan Rink, 81 and himself a liberal from the Bay Area.
“I’m not sure she’s a liberal, I view her as more moderate,” David Anderson, 55, a film industry veteran, chimed in.
Yekutiel took a poll: “How many of you, if you’re willing to raise your hand, are worried about her ability to win?” About half the circle responded, though several acknowledged they were “more hopeful than 24 hours ago.”
Hope has been in short supply all year for this crowd. Enthusiasm, even shorter.
“The last few weeks were really difficult because people have just felt this dread, that there’s no point,” Yekutiel said. “And now I have all these ideas, my mind has been racing, people are reaching out to me, asking how they can help. That was not happening 24 hours ago.”
Two nights later, Manny’s hosted a watch party for Biden’s Oval Office address, his first since exiting the campaign. Despite the new themed drinks — “Kamalattes,” sweetened with coconut syrup, of course — the affair was solemn.
As the president’s speech played on a small TV opposite the barista station, some 20 people fell silent and clustered around the screen. Passersby stopped to watch through the cafe’s open front windows. A woman named Lydia walked in to order a mocha and wound up staying for the whole thing.
The elated embrace of Harris expanded to a tearful appreciation of Biden.
“I felt in his voice and his speech and his words so much love for this country,” Michelle Jeong said, choking up. “The hope, unity and the lack of ego.”
For Mike Madison, who had also attended the Monday gathering, the sentiment was overdue. Lost in the memes and the Harris hullabaloo was the fact that Biden had just made a tremendous sacrifice, he said.
“I wanted people to remember what he’s done, his real accomplishments,” Madison said.
If night one’s theme was relief and celebration and night two’s was gratitude, a third event Thursday was something of a reality check. It was also the largest gathering of the week, squeezing about 175 people into Manny’s backroom for a panel featuring two journalists dissecting the upcoming campaign and Harris’s prospects for victory.
“It’s not going to be easy, let’s be clear. It’s not going to be easy to win in November,” said Scott Shafer, politics editor at KQED, a Bay Area public radio station.
The evening served as a call to action: “This is our hometown candidate, she’s one of us,” Yekutiel said. “So we are going to be needed to propel her to this highest office.”
For those interested in getting involved, he announced a very San Francisco option: A “disco for democracy” party, with proceeds going to get-out-the-vote efforts in neighboring Nevada. Only days earlier, when Biden was still heading the Democratic ticket, such festivities were a harder sell, Yekutiel said. But now there was something to dance about.
Lalita Abhyankar, a physician, was ready to volunteer. “I want to knock on doors,” she said. “I’ve never felt this way about a candidate, not even Obama. … I can vote for her instead of just voting against Trump. It feels amazing.”
Thursday was her first time at a Manny’s discussion, she said. A friend told her it was the place to be this week, and she wanted company as she reveled in her new enthusiasm. Sometimes even those who didn’t know they cared leave Manny’s fired up — like the woman who happened to walk in just before Biden’s address.
“She came in for a mocha and participated in a major historic moment,” Yekutiel said. “That was my vision for this place — you trap people with beer and coffee so they don’t even realize they’re walking into a political space. And then, they’re in.”
