A longtime LGBTQ+ establishment in Bankers Hill, SRO Lounge, closed Sunday after 44 years in business, a development the bar announced with just a few hours notice on Instagram.
SRO Lounge sat next to The Balboa, a bar famous for its burgers, on Fifth Avenue and Elm Street. John Sanfilippo and Bryan Galvin opened the lounge in 1982 and it became a popular destination for cross-dressing, gender non-conforming and transgender San Diegans.
Transgender leader Paris Quion said over text that the abrupt closure hit the community “like a ton of bricks.”

She said for many trans and nonbinary people, “SRO has been our safe haven from a difficult world to maneuver. A world that most times treats us like ‘others,’ sometimes even within our own community.”
She described the bar as a break from the negativity trans people experience elsewhere.
People flooded in on Sunday night to share memories of a longtime safe space and reminisce.
“People were just there to have one last drink,” said Tyler Renner. “It was packed, wall to wall, people everywhere. The bartenders were in a really good mood. They seemed really happy to connect with so many people.”
When Renner moved to San Diego over a decade ago and Googled LGBTQ+ bars, SRO Lounge sat at the top of the results. When he visited, it was the first queer space he went to that catered to the trans community when so many other spaces are gay-male dominated.
“I was just like, ‘Wow, how cool that there’s a space, not just for LGBT people in general, but trans-specific folks,’” he recalled.
On social media, some patrons shared that SRO Lounge was a place they first felt welcome and affirmed when exploring their gender expression and coming out. Others were sad to lose another safe space.
“It’s sad to see it close,” wrote Rev. Dan Koeshall, retired pastor of The Met Church. “May another safe place be found for many who found refuge there.“
In its farewell announcement, the SRO team wrote “This small space has given all of us a place to belong. No matter your walk of life, you always had a place where you felt welcome.”
The announcement noted that the closure was a “see you later,” not a goodbye. SRO’s owners could not be reached to clarify what their future plans may be.
Developers, however, have long eyed the site, at 1807 Fifth Ave. An expired building permit from 2019 outlined plans for a four-story, mixed-use building there intended for restaurant and office use on the lower floor and 20 residential units above.
Supporters hope the lounge can rise again. Quion, the owner of the Hillcrest restaurant, InsideOut, texted “I personally am not giving up on continuing the legacy of SRO whether in the current space it is in or elsewhere … We can’t give up on our queer spaces, it’s just far too important and lifesaving.”
People on social media were also saddened not just about the SRO Lounge closing, but that yet another unique spot in San Diego had ceased to exist.
“There’s truly nowhere like it anywhere else — and San Diego has lost so much of its eccentric, quirky, clever hometown spots already,” lamented Michail Takach in a comment on the announcement.
The city’s enduring gay bars are almost entirely in Hillcrest now, with a few exceptions in North Park, including The Eagle, Pecs Bar and gay-friendly Redwing Bar.
San Diego’s longest-operating gay bar, The Hole, rebranded to Bar 1924 early this year with an upscale cocktail menu. Its history as a century-old gay bar was scrubbed from the website.

LGBTQ+ bars within Hillcrest have faced their own concerns, including pellet gun attacks, eggings and graffiti as well as fears that development could push nightlife out.
SRO Lounge faced some of those same concerns.
Its final night came almost a year after an attack targeted the SRO. On Nov. 15, 2025, an unknown assailant in an older F-150 truck shot pellets at bar patrons standing outside the entrance. Two transgender women were struck and injured.
Outside on Sunday, the final night’s patrons lined up to take photos with the signage.
“There was a sense of like, oh, we’ve all got to get our last little memory and moment here,” Renner said. “It was sweet.”






