As tree branches and broken umbrellas glide across shimmering streets on a stormy Saturday night, a spectacular gala takes place at the Gift Center at Eighth and Brannan Streets. Within its steel and glass walls, stunning white drapes hang across the two-story banquet hall, and techno hits blare on the speakers.

The guests, all men, are dressed in everything from cowboy hats to full-length gowns. The culmination of the past month’s festivities comes down to tonight —coronation night. Guests, who paid anywhere from thirty-five to fifty dollars for a ticket, take their seats as the candidates make their way up the stage.

“I was so nervous, I wanted it so badly,” says a smiling John Weber. “I was literally shaking.” Weber, a thirty-eight-year-old New Orleans native, is surprised when his name is announced. His face lights up with joy as he is crowned this year’s Castro Emperor.

A week ago, in a bustling neighborhood nestled between Twin Peaks and the towering buildings of Upper Market, hordes of people gathered on the streets. While most were in regular attire, the occasional “bear” was seen walking down the street, shirtless and with pierced nipples for the world to see.

While this may seem to be an attraction in itself, the main event was actually brewing underground in the Castro MUNI station, as trainusers were bombarded with dozens of men, and some women, cheering. Three stern-looking men sit behind a foldout table, a metal voting box sitting in the middle. “Get out of here,” yells a tall man, dressed in a white shirt and jeans, a ferocious-looking goatee on his chin. “You know the rules—a hundred feet back.”

It is voting day in this flamboyant neighborhood, and the residents are excited. With little space to write on the foldout table, voters are forced to use the burnt orange-colored walls of the train station as writing surfaces. Despite these less than ideal voting conditions, Weber is able to beat out his competition—Stephen Dorsey and Paul Maka Poole. Using many friends and supporters, Weber sets up a makeshift “command center” on the corner of Eighteenth and Castro Streets in front of Bank of America where he and his friends rallied for supporters.

“I’m originally from New Orleans, and my family was a part of Katrina,” explains Weber, who was Mr. Gay SF in 2007. “This community donated everything, even flyer miles, just to get my family out here. I owe it to them.”

While tourist and locals may view the event as just another “gay thing,” it is more than just a novel idea that pokes fun at our country’s democratic system. The Imperial Council has deep roots in helping out the community’s organizations. The non-profit helps fund other local community programs and hosts the Emperor and Empress of Castro.

“It was such a rewarding experience this past year,” says the 2007 Emperor Michael Dumont. “What made the entire thing worthwhile was last night, before we crowned John and Cher, [this year’s Empress], was when we presented our organizations with a check for eighteen-thousand dollars—the money we had raised over the year.”

While eighteen-thousand dollars may not seem like much, Dumont points out that the money he and last year’s Empress, Phillip “Chika” Evans raised totaled much more than eighteen-thousand dollars, as some money got dispersed immediately to some of the organizations. “The faces on those people though, it was priceless and made all the events we went to, all the sleep lost, all the traveling, worth it,” says a smiling Evans. Founded in 1965 by former San Francisco supervisory candidate Jose Sarria, the Imperial Council was intended to “set the Court standard of humor, heart, and humanitarianism,” according to the Court’s website, ImperialCouncilSF.org.

Today, the Imperial Court has over sixty-five chapters in cities including Albuquerque, New Mexico; Vancouver, British Columbia; and Halifax, Nova Scotia; and donates thousands of dollars to community agencies and national causes.

“I’m going to make a difference,” says a hopeful Weber. “Between me and Cher, we’re gonna make things happen and help people out the same way this community helped me and my family out.”

In a country full of senators, house representatives, and presidential candidates, it’s hard to believe that an Imperial Court could exist amidst all this democracy. And while the rest of the county, state, or nation may look at this annual Castro event as odd, maybe they’re onto something. Maybe something different is all we need.