Nacho Ordinary Bar

Picture if you will: Los Angeles, late Spring 1999. Encino, to be exact.

Ann, a college senior is on her own in the City of Angels, having just completed the Directors Guild of America Trainee Exam. She's nervous and alone. She doesn't want to go out by herself, because she's a small town girl and completely out of her element. She reaches out to some sorority sisters in the area, but they are busy. One volunteers her boyfriend, Jeff, to take her to dinner.

Jeff shows up at the hotel right on time. He picks Ann up at the hotel in Encino and drives to Venice Beach. They park and walk past all of the shops, Muscle Beach and street performers. Ann is wide-eyed and innocent, marveling at the different types of people that she sees. They are way different than what she is used to-- MAJOR culture shock.

Ann and Jeff walk to the very end of the sidewalk. There stands a hole-in-the-wall bar with a beat up Cadillac hanging out of the wall. "It's a real car," boasts Jeff. "Some guy got real drunk and drove through the bar after they closed. They say it was cheaper to just shore up the wall with the car in it than take it out."

"Oh," mumbles Ann, praying silently that they aren't going into the dive bar. It's certainly not her type of place, having grown up by the Hamptons. It's literally on the other side of the country, a fact that wasn't overlooked by Ann.

Unfortunately, Jeff strolls right into the dive bar, literally called The Cadillac Bar (renamed for obvious reasons). Ann follows, and the place is packed. Wall-to-wall people and nowhere to sit in sight. "Let's go upstairs!" Jeff yells into her ear. He must have noticed her wide eyes, as he immediately adds, "There's another bar up there!" Ann nods and follows Jeff up the stairs.

The upstairs "bar" is actually just a room with about a dozen round tables and a bar smashed up against the wall, acting as a bar. To the left is a wall of mirrors. The rest of the walls have white paint peeling off. Jeff motions to two stools at the end of the bar, placed on the corner. Ann sits on the end stool, the mirrored wall to her back, peeling white wall to her left and Jeff to her right. In front of her is the long, wooden bar. No one is behind it, as no one would fit-- It is literally flush with the wall, merely acting as a countertop for patrons to set their drinks and food.

As Ann waits for a menu, a waitress comes over. Jeff says something to her and she disappears. Jeff leans over to Ann, declaring, "They've got the best nachos here!" Ann nods, still waiting for a menu. It's so noisy that Ann can't hear what Jeff says, so she just smiles and nods. This is most definitely not her type of place.

After about ten minutes, the waitress reappears with two massive margaritas and a plate of nachos, smothered in some sort of drippy queso mixture. Ann looks down the plank of wood passing for a bar and realizes this is pretty much the order for everyone sitting there, plus some pitchers of beer. The noise gets to Ann and she leans to Jeff. "I have to use the bathroom!" She yells. Jeff nods and points downstairs with one hand, shoving nachos into his mouth with the other.

Ann attempts to push back from the bar, but her feet don't reach the ground. To gain leverage, Ann leans all of her weight on the end of the bar. That's when Ann realized that she made the most embarrassing mistake of her life.

The bar wasn't attached to the wall.

In seemingly slow motion, the bar flipped up just as Ann put all of her wait on the end of it. Beer, margaritas and nachos were catapulted toward her. There was nothing that Ann could do but stand there, on the losing end of a food fight, being pelted with ice, chips and queso, and taking an ungodly shower of margaritas and beer. She tried to hold her hands up to protect her face, but nothing worked. The food came from all angles.

As the wood bounced down on the arms that was holding it up, you could hear a pin drop in the bar. Ann looked around, horrified, at the dumbfounded faces staring back at her. She looked behind her at the wall of mirrors, which took the same onslaught of food that she did (if not more), only to see an outline of her body where she stopped the food from hitting the mirror. She also saw the reflection of all of the people in the bar staring at her.

No one said a word; they just stared. Finally, Ann took a shaky breath and ran for the stairs. She ran down the stairs, out the door and down the boardwalk. She didn't know where she was going, but she was getting there fast. She just needed to get away from the most mortifying moment of her life.

Blinded by queso getting into her eyes, Ann finally found a bench to sit on and attempt to clean up. she pulled nachos out of her hair and wiped queso from her eyes. She smelled like tequila and beer. If anyone saw her, they would have thought she lost a bar brawl.

Ann sat on the bench, looking out toward the Pacific Ocean, not knowing what to do nor where to go. All of her friends and family were on the opposite coast, and there was no way she was calling her sorority sister that had Jeff take her out.

"Hey," a voice said, pulling Ann out of her thoughts. "You okay?"

Ann looked up, only to find Jeff standing over her. He offered a smile. "How did you find me?" Ann asked, mortified.

"I followed the chips." Jeff answered. Ann looked down the boardwalk from whence she came and saw a trail of chips and queso, leading to her sitting on the bench. Ann closed her eyes and wished that the ground would just open up and swallow her. "Come on, I'll take you back to the hotel."

"Thanks." Ann rose and followed Jeff, who stayed a good two feet away from her as they walked to his car. Once there, Jeff pulled out some towels and covered the seat, so no residue from the Cadillac Bar would ruin his seats. Jeff dropped Ann off at the hotel, never to see her again.

This is a true story. How do I know? Because it happened to me. That's right-- I'm Ann.