Tad Glauthier enters the red room adorned with glittering disco balls and draws the plastic six-shooter tucked from behind the small of his back. “There’s a new sheriff in town,” he says to diners waiting in the bar with his revolver held high. He’s in charge of the dining room floor tonight, and wants to be ready for anything.

SoMa’s new interactive Supperclub is not the first restaurant where diners can recline while they dine, but it’s the premier site in the United States. Started by Dutch pictorial artists and libertines 15 years ago, the concept is now thriving in places such as Amsterdam and Rome, and on cruise ships throughout the Mediterranean. Owners Tad Glauthier and Alex Lustberg recently purchased rights for all U.S. Supperclubs with hopes that other forward thinkers will one day step up with ideas of expanding their “creative laboratory” to “a culture that stems from the city versus a culture that simply comes from money.”

In a pressed white Italian dinner jacket with wavy black hair, the Lurch-sized host leads patrons to the two-tiered, white-washed arena dubbed the “Snow Room.” His raspy voice and bubbly attitude garner chuckles and smiles as he swishes couples to their oversized couches to endure a five-course meal over the next five hours. Slurping atop the sheets makes it difficult to navigate spoonfuls of roasted tomato soup to the mouth. It can be as awkward as drinking an upside down glass of water. Fortunately, the only hiccups that occur seem to plague the performance.

Cat-like performers made up with whiskers and velvet tails strut the perimeter. They bat giant balls of yarn before slurping milk from large saucers. A cross-dresser in a ribbed black jumpsuit hands peacock feathers to patrons for feline fondling. The stray pussies eventually follow the closet queen as he jumps on the bar in pink stiletto boots to belt out an off-key rendition of “Maneater.”

Constituents can cat nap during the meal should they tire of the entertainment or waning courses, although most seem less soporific and more prone to partying. “You need to have attitude to enjoy a place like this,” says Michelle Magallón, a woman dancing to the familiar DJ beats of Hotel Court. She feels the eclectic culture of the Bay Area makes San Francisco a perfect Supperclub venue. “This isn’t Wonder white bread country,” she says, sipping champagne and urging passive others from their lazy loll to the dance floor.

Gay culture, circus schools, puppetry, bondage, burners and techies are just a few of the groups that contribute to the party vibe. The biggest challenge, however, is getting a good mix of all these people on any given night. The venue, which opened in mid-September, has experienced some evenings of too much “bridge and tunnel crowd,” or boisterous men getting hammered at the bar.

Creation at Supperclub is “whatever you want to do as long as it doesn’t interfere with someone else’s trip,” Glauthier says. “There are certain things you can’t do, involving blood or live piercing, although if it weren’t illegal we might try to do it.”

Other lay down venues lack the internal network Glauthier and Lustberg are tapping into—an exchange of chefs, performers and DJs between international Supperclubs. “We all know how the jungle gym is built,” Glauthier says, “so we can all play on it when we get there.” He repacks his pistol and readies himself for anything. For San Francisco's Supperclub, he says, “the most interesting things are yet to come.”