From The Bar ~ The Parade…

Another segment of a project The Rise and Fall of a Saloon In The Latter Part off The Twentieth Century. These excerpts are not chronological. In fact very little logic prevails…

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                                                    The Parade…

The feel good of Being a Presence and filling a space…happy to be alive and going out tonight…
_______________________

Beautiful women sparkling like gold dust in a pan…not many yet, but the ones who were there… and more are coming…
Pretty Maids…all in a row…
________________________

I looked at the foyer and a large cloud of smoke billowed forth.
People and society hadn’t commenced the full demonizing of tobacco yet.  Smoking was not only permitted, it was ubiquitous… but I digress… I was saying I looked at the foyer and a large cloud of smoke billowed forth…
Whut in the world…?
That very large cloud of smoke was followed by a guy about 5’1″ wearing a brand new overlarge brown cowboy hat smoking a cigar so big it looked like it was  towing him.

Making his entrance, as it were…

The machismo presentation served its purpose in that it made people give him a wide berth but since it included women avoiding him like they would avoid an ankle biting mutt I’m not sure the production had the effect he intended.
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Man, she looked so sweet… almost like a cartoon… she kinda glittered as she walked.
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The Tattoo ~ part one
“You guys wanna see my flower…?”
_______________________

Interviewing a new waitress…:
“Waddaya mean you don’t wear underwear…?”
“I never do.”
________________________

Crew Rules:
The perfect customer space
A clean table
A clean Ashtray
One drink
One dry napkin
________________________

You’re finding out, I think…
That the only thing you’ll find in a spider’s nest is more spiders…
The Write Down Book
________________________

There’s a lotta purty girls in this place.
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“I was lookin back to see if you were lookin back to see if I was lookin back to see if you were lookin back at me…” old country song
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Want another one?
________________________

The Tattoo ~ part two
She was a petite, pretty Full Blood… a Native American and claimed to be a truck driver passing through and looking to ‘get things taken care of’ so to speak before she went back on the road…
________________________

Stop me if you’ve heard this one…
Stop
________________________
Crew Rules
Wear What You Want
You know what looks good on you…
________________________

The Vietnam Vet:
It wasn’t my fault… it wasn’t my fault…
you know what I’m talkin about…it wasn’t my fault…

________________________

And on the Bandstand
The band is playing “Sleepwalk” one of those ‘buckle polishers’
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The Tattoo ~ part three
“Yep.  That’s some flower!”
It was, too.
A rose.  Tattooed on her very beautiful, coral nippled,  Native American bosom.  She wore a peasant blouse  that allowed her to gently cup and lift the decorated breast so we could be sure to see the Art of it All…

You had to appreciate that…
________________________

She’s got great lips.  Great lips are ones you never want to stop kissing.
…and you can tell just by looking at them how it would be…
________________________

A stately beauty with a long dark pour of hair…to her waist
eyes so like a deer, soft and brown
in a gown, a beautiful marooning of a lovely figure…

________________________

And on the Bandstand
When Florie played the fiddle her hair spread like a nun’s cowl over her shoulders and in the spotlight it was a golden, gossamer fire…

________________________

“I’m good…baby, I’m good…”
“I’m sure you are but I don’t think tonight’s gonna be it for us…”

________________________

The toilet’s plugged up again.
Ice!  I need ice!
I need ones and fives

________________________

Elvis is the king
The king is dead, long live the king.
Elvis loved his mother
That may be but he was also a pill junkie
Elvis was a good moral role model
Sure… for rich, spoiled entertainers
I love Elvis
Not me.  I love Jim Beam and Brandy
________________________

He sat very straight on his barstool, looked at himself in the mirror and maintaining a straight line from the back of his head to the tips of the legs on the stool, toppled over backward.

A telephone pole couldn’t have done it better.
…and he did it with a smile…
________________________
He would come in only when a band was playing.  He came to dance one dance, sometimes two and leave.  About 5’10.  a silent young man…slender build and wearing clean clothes of no particular style.  A John Deere billed cap and the demeanor that could make you think of him as a young farmer come to town.
To dance…and dance…and dance… in a relaxed yet rigid manner his legs and feet swinging in gentle, sweeping loops; his hands most often were in his back pockets and his torso unbending.
…his eyes were on the floor as he glided and danced seeing only what his mind played for him as he drifted over the dance floor…
To dance…and dance…and dance…
…alone…
________________________
He was Central Casting’s send-up of the Perfect Bartender.  Spotless, starched white shirt and apron…an always perfect tie with an always perfect knot.  Blond hair, like a Swede’s, thinning on top…in his mid to late 40’s.  No one else could have pulled off that character in such a place.
…a cynic with laughing eyes… eyes that smile like a predator’s… a smile that never quite made it to those eyes.
Not all the Norsemen were giants.  It was said they all had cunning and were dangerous if you didn’t keep your guard up.
________________________
A roomful of people has a voice, you know…
Like the group, or herd or whatever it is, has its own life, its own language.  You can tell if it’s happy… or not, as the case may be.
You don’t want an unhappy room in a saloon…
________________________
There’s something about a woman’s walk…
…how do they do that?
You walk behind them and are amazed at the total variety of ways women move their hips as they walk…
Some smolder like the Sirens they are as they move, mesmerizing any helmsman’s mind into the rocks simply by moving across the room.
Others move like queens and appear to have no feet… they just glide…

Definitely something about the way a woman walks…
________________________

It’s another night at The Bar…

____________

Paper Dolls~ by Vann

Jean Harlow…

I lost this one.

I sometimes put some of my pieces in busness establishments around town trying to drum up interest in my paintings.

I put this one in a small bar on Woodside Road in Redwood City.

The owners sold the bar and the picture dissappeared…

From The Bar ~ The Other Place…

Another segment of a project The Rise and Fall of a Saloon In The Latter Part off The Twentieth Century. These excerpts are not chronological. In fact very little logic prevails…

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                                       The Other Place

Every business has one.  They try to avoid calling the Other Place by name but every business does have one.  The Other Place is usually in the same business and in direct competition
The Bar was no different.

The Other Place was a short walk from The Bar and was basically a restaurant that had a much smaller bar.  Still, the Other Place had a full service bar and there was room for a dance band, a p.a. system and tables and a dinky little dance floor that was separate from the restaurant itself.  They had a bigger parking lot.  The main difference, to the casual drop-in customer was that The Bar, along with having the showcase back bar, was almost totally devoted to drinking and live music presentation.  True, it had a kitchen but after the first year it became more of a lunch and happy hour food concession.  The Other Place was initially more focused on food.

But that was just initially.
It soon saw the value of the young “party hearty” crowd and started to gear their business to capitalize on this.  They also, being in business to be making money rather than friends,  installed dispensing guns for their alcohol that strictly measured every drop eliminating any possibility of overpouring on the part of the bartender.  This, while impersonal, has a dramatic and positive effect on pour cost, the definitive number that relates to actual profit taken by the business.

Remembering that this entire missive is to describe the rise and fall of a saloon in the latter part of the twentieth century we shall see how in many ways the Other Place was quicker to spot and capitalize on fads and trends.

Would T.O. have had a longer run with The Bar than he’d had if he had followed their lead?  Hard to say. Looking back on it from the comfort of hindsight I am sure that he would have made more money longer if he had been quicker to capitalize on fads.  Following a lead means the Other Place got the idea first.  And many times, that meant they got most of the money.

Oddly, a band that worked well at The Bar often did not do well at The Other Place and vice versa so at least in that area the competion was not as bad.  But catching the New Idea, the New Trick coming down the road…

An excellent example follows.
One morning T.O. and myself were at the table by the side door reading the morning paper, the San Francisco Chronicle, over our morning coffee.  That’s what Mornings are for… morning things…

I was reading ‘The Datebook’ which is the arts and entertainment section of the paper.
I knew he had already read that section but when I read an article about Karaoke, then a new phenomenon from Japan, I was intrigued.  I had never heard of it.  You hire something like a DJ with a video machine and allow regular people to fulfill their fantasies and sing popular songs with the lyrics projected on a screen.  What a Concept!  We already had a good pull down screen we used for NFL games so it looked very interesting to me.
“T.O., did you see this thing in the paper about this Karaoke business?”
T.O. acknowledged that he had indeed seen it.
“Maybe we should give it a try.”
His response?
One word.  “No”
That ended that and what happened next was that the Other Place looked into it.  It was a little pricey for the day, costing almost as much as hiring a decent four piece band.  But there were advantages.
They were not as noisy.  It took up less room.  It got the entire audience involved either as singers or as well wishing spectators.  It was fun.  And the biggest advantage was Being First.
Being First on a new fad gave you a tremendous edge on your competition.  You not only got the reputation for Being First but once the customer was on your premises you could sell them your entire broadside of what you had to offer… music, pretty waitresses… good looking bartenders and a sense of telling the new customer that they will have more fun in your saloon.  Word of mouth does the rest.  Far better than any ad….

The Other Place booked a Karaoke D.J.

And it took off, big time.  The effect on The Bar was immediate and stark.  The Other Place initially booked it for Wednesday nights but after seeing the results at the register, booked it for Friday and Saturday nights also.  Suddenly, the weekends dropped off like a bad day at the stock market.  I mean we cut back from a three waitress night on Friday and Saturday to two and much of the time one of those would go home early.
By the time T.O. decided it might be something worth doing the First Mad Rush of the Karaoke fad had passed through,
I could never figure out how he thought things through.  He looked at the whole concept of Entertaining People differently than he should have.  I think, when he first saw the coming of Karaoke, he looked at it as something he might not want to do.   Ergo, his customers wouldn’t either.  I don’t know. Certainly the ones that came in and stayed to drink all day would not indulge in a glorified sing-along.  But they would stay if The Bar had sheep grooming contests.  Getting new people, particularly women, into the place was what kept a saloon thriving,
It is fatal for a club or live music saloon to not keep things interesting. You constantly had to get the public’s attention somehow.
In any case, T.O. finally relented and we brought in a Karaoke vendor that tried but even with an actual stage and lights available for those who wanted that it just didn’t quite get off the ground.  It just came close to breaking even.

Finally it got so the fad faded at The Other Place too and we all went back to booking bands.

I think we may see a lesson here…

Some lessons
Just Don’t Get Learnt…
The Write Down Book

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Paper Dolls by Vann…

            This one got put on public display twice for about a two week run both times… even with her flaws she is cute.  Shame that the photo is so off color wise… the actual color is softer…

She is based on a Playboy model I think.  Very light hearted looking gamin…

I seldom named the paintings.  I would write on the back of them my thoughts about the work after I deemed it finished.  If it was of a specific person I would write “____ is that you?”

As I recall, there wasn’t a name association for this one but “Jamie” comes to mind for some reason…

From The Bar ~ Bartending, Cocktail Waitressing

Another segment of a project The Rise and Fall of a Saloon in the Latter Part off The Twentieth Century. These excerpts are not chronological. In fact very little logic prevails…

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Bartending and Waitressing
The Focus of the job is this:

The Perfect Customer Space:
1. A clean, dry surface
2. One Drink
3. A dry napkin
4. A clean ashtray
5. No dead glassware

Bartending, and its sister trade, cocktail waitressing, is part of the vast Service Industry of our nation.  Some bartenders take up the trade as a lifelong career.  Most do not.  You might be surprised to know that, particularly among the younger practitioners, Bartending and Cocktail Waitressing has put many an ambitious achiever through school.
As time goes on, some bartenders keep up the trade and become somewhat transitory as they move from saloon to saloon.  The young, vibrant cocktail waitress that likes the trade may learn bartending or move to being a waitperson at a nice restaurant or any of the small business cafes and small eateries that dot the nation.  Cocktailing in a busy, loud, live music saloon is a young woman’s job.

The attractive thing about being a bartender (outside of the social availability of members of the opposite sex, (some of whom see the “mixologist “as a near celebrity) was never the base pay.  Base pay for bartenders at The Bar was a dollar above the prevailing minimum wage.
It was the ‘gratuities’…the tips… That is what the attraction was…
Most bartenders at The Bar went home with between fifty to seventy five dollars per shift, a good sum for the time, more if the night brought in a lot of ‘party hardy’ folks.
The day shift was not only lucrative, but the hours were more “normal” when compared to the workaday world.
This tip money is recieved untaxed.  No declarations or deductions were ever required to be made accountable to the house.  The IRS, of course, expects its citizenry to be honor bound and declare their tips as income at the proper time and pay accordingly.  Caesar, after all, will have his renderings.
Let us strive to believe that this is exactly what a young adult would do with this wad of cash they tucked away at the end of shift.  We will believe they went home and noted the exact amount in their personal ledgers so they could do their civic duty at tax time.

A waitress, be she green or an experienced pro, was always paid minimum wage but could make almost as much, sometimes more than a bartender, particularly if she had a singular beauty to match her abilities at drink service.
The waitress usually worked with a 14” round, cork lined, serving tray with a clip-on clamshell device called a “Cash Caddy” attached to the rim that held their money…kept the coins organized a slot for currency in the hinged lid. Some women preferred “bare knuckling” it, keeping their coins in a rocks glass and their bills in hand. This made room for one more drink for distribution and gave them a literal firmer grip on their folding money. Cocktail waitresses share “war stories” about thieves doing snatch and grabs of their money.
Some arrived on the job with their own “bank” or start money, usually twenty dollars. Most would just write an I.O.U. on a cocktail napkin and hope they made enough in tips through the night to “make their bank” and pay off the I.O.U. And if the crowd was not in a tipping mood this could be a source of anxiety. “Making their bank” was always a relief but they didn’t make money until the I.O.U was covered.
It was a saloon tradition that the waitresses must ‘kick’ the bartenders ten percent of their tips because tradition also said that when the bartenders were making drinks for the waitress to sell they could have been making drinks for their own customers. And since they actually made the drinks it was considered only right that they should make a little more for their trouble and expertise.
Some feel this is unjust but it is also The Way Things Were Done.
Everybody made more money if they dressed right and entertained the customers by adding some personality to their style. Good saloon service is, after all, largely Show Business.

But no matter how you looked at it, being a bartender or a waitress in a saloon that was bringing in good houses was a heady way to make money.

To the customer it looks easy.  You pour the drink, you take the money…Stay tuned as I educate you to the work involved in serving alcohol to the masses so you might have a better understanding of The Trade… a better understanding of what goes into actually providing…

The Perfect Customer Space:
1. A clean, dry surface
2. One Drink
3. A dry napkin
4. A clean ashtray
5. No dead glassware

To be continued…

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Paper Dolls by Vann

This is another of my efforts based on a Cosmopolitan model…i have no idea who she might have been.  Hair was always hard for me to do and I think that is maybe why I like this one… I had better luck with her hair…

I loved doing lips.  They took hours because I used a special transparent ink… layered…

From The Bar ~ The Mating Dance ~ The Mighty Hunter Speech

The Mating Dance is a series of observations of human nature in pursuits of  (more or less) romantic endeavor   They are not in any particular order.  That would imply rationality .

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                                                   The Mighty Hunter Speech.

This is the verbal resume’ a guy goes into when he see a girl he like and wants to be with.
In it, he describes what a catch he would be for the lass should she decide to accept his affections.  Somehow, even tempered with what should be maturity, it doesn’t really improve from the way he felt about himself when he were twelve.
It has changed little since humans first started talking.
With variations, it goes like this:

~/~
Hrok is Mighty Hunter
Hrok is rugged.  Hrok is Smart!  Hrok is so smart he has to deliberately cover part of it up so people aren’t so jealous.

Hrok “can handle himself” implying invincibility in the field of battle…
Hrok may brag of his herd and cave.  Of course few people have herds anymore nor do they live in caves but the sense is the same.  Hrok will have a great car or truck.  Some Hroks have “Harley’s”.

If he is not living at home with his parents Hrok will claim to have cool digs.
Hrok either has money or will have some soon.

~/~
Sometimes he can do tricks like bend aluminum cans his bare hands or belch at will.
All this to convince you, if you are a female, that you would be wise to want to bed Hrock
This last sentiment is not often actually voiced.
Not over the first drink anyway.

The “Hrok is Mighty Hunter” speech may not get delivered all at once.  No. Not at all.

It is inserted into conversation whenever it can be managed, a section at a time.  If the guy really likes the girl it may take several encounters to trot out the whole speech.  Sometimes it is delivered more than once for reinforcement.  But they all have one and I think it’s safe to say that, given time, every guy’s ‘Hrok is Mighty Hunter” Speech”, including upgrades, is constantly at the ready.

From The Bar ~ In The Beginning… A Prologue

Another segment of a project The Rise and Fall of a Saloon In The Latter Part off The Twentieth Century. These excerpts are not chronological. In fact very little logic prevails…

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                                 It was the best of times; it was the worse of times…
Today is tomorrow’s History and soon will exist only in old newspaper files and Halloween costumes.
                                                                                          ___ The Write Down Book
A writing describing what goes into the making of a Saloon… a primer, if you like…
But it is also being a Reminisce of Saloon Life in a burg in California.
A saloon called ‘The Bar’
It wasn’t much to look at from the outside but then most small to middle sized towns aren’t known for fancy exteriors on their saloons.  In Nevada, maybe, but not in a town like this.  The town was in what is called “The Bay Area” of California between San Francisco and San Jose.  Someone asked why anyone would choose to live in such a boring town and some wag said “If you had a big rubber band and hooked one end on San Francisco and the other end on San Jose the skinny part would be this town.”  Meaning that one would have access to the bigger places with none of the hassle and expense of actually living in the larger city.
The Bar was a saloon located in an industrial zone one block from the entrance/exit to a major freeway.  And as McDonald’s Ray Kroc said, it’s ‘location, location, location’ so from that standpoint it was a good site.  Good, because of the accessibility to a major freeway and good because industrial zones don’t have neighborly complaints because it is not a residential area by law.
It was in a state issue ‘utility building’, one of those flat, single story, unimaginative cement block things sitting on a utility concrete slab and painted a utility color with a utility parking lot.
It was smack in the middle of a block boasting a gas station at each end and an auto dealership next door.  Since the building had seen some usage as a Department Of Motor Vehicles it was forever known as the ‘Old DMV Building.’   Odd that it should end up as a drinkhouse.  Evolving from a place where one got their license to one where events could end up with their license getting suspended.

It is 1975…
        The Beatles have disbanded… Members of the Watergate scandal are being prosecuted… Vietnam is still a war zone at the start of the year but the nation is sick of the war and it is winding down.  Hostilities will end in April.  The Picture Of The Year will be a black and white shot of the last helicopter leaving the American Embassy in Saigon…
Television made light of drinking in 1975. The Dean Martin Show, with Dean’s air of being borderline tipsy has just gone off the air but  M*A*S*H was on with Hawkeye and his still and Cheers was a show based in a saloon that would be along in seven short years..
People and society hadn’t commenced the full demonizing of tobacco yet.  Smoking was not only permitted, it was ubiquitous and those who disliked cigarette smoke were considered a minority or so it seemed at the time.  Tobacco companies had a huge advertising budget and spent as if money made them invulnerable and they would never be brought up short.
AIDS wasn’t a problem…yet…The Pill was There but Herpes other forms of disease was always a possibility.

 
But just what is a saloon, anyway?
When they hear the word ‘saloon’ Americans visualizes something like “The Long Branch” in Dodge City or Tombstone with swinging batwing doors, dancing girls and a rinky-tink piano.  Well, yes, there were such places but ‘saloon’ is rooted in ‘salon’ that being a large room for public gatherings.  Of course a saloon is more than that.  In California you could get a beer/wine license with very little cost or process.  You needed to post a notice on premises visible from the public that you intended to indulge in beer and wine sales.  This notice gave neighboring businesses the opportunity to protest such sales if they so chose.  But this does not make your business a saloon.
For a real saloon you needed a liquor license, a strictly regulated, limited issue, hard to get, very expensive piece of paper.  Only a few new issues were made annually from the Alcoholic Beverage Control Agency (referred to as the ABC)  yearly and those were assigned by lottery.  If you got a license via the ABC you paid a reasonable fee to the state.
If you owned such a license you could sell this privileging piece of paper and in those days you could sell it for far more than you paid the state for a new issue because a properly run saloon could be a goldmine.
A saloon, then, is a drinkhouse… a tavern… a place where booze and beer is sold. generally over a bar, sometimes with food.   Some even had live music.
It was said in an obscure ‘How To Run A Saloon’ type book that all saloons were owned by drunks or reformed drunks.
The Bar was such a place…
But there was another, even more important thing that made a saloon what it was and is still their reason for existence even today…
Without lonely people
a saloon cannot not exist…
                                                                              __The Write Down Book
~/~
“The Bar” … which is what it colloquially was called…
was, after all, a petty, small time, neighborhood bar that featured live
music owned by a person who some say had no business being anywhere near alcohol in Large Quantities.
The pressures and debaucheries of a place like, say Carol Doda’s might be more interesting to the general public but The Bar could have been in your own town…
~/~
The Bar?  Never heard of the place… naaaah, I don’t like hanging in bars.
Sure I’ll stop by for a drink with you.  You’ve asked often enough…
                                                                          ~/~
And that’s how it starts.
That’s how most people found The Bar at first.  Either by invitation or by seeing it in a chance drive by due to the location, location, location, right off a freeway interchange.

Marijuana, in small quantities, had been newly made a misdemeanor in California and largely ignored as long as you kept it outside…
Preferably under the    [Getting Loaded ]    sign in the back of the building.
The idea was to be a little discreet…not be so foolish as to blow pot smoke at any  gendarmes who might be passing through the parking lot.
In 1975 if you got pulled over and failed a field sobriety test you spent the night in  jail and could get a fine as high as three hundred dollars and know that you would get a ribbing from those who were your ‘drinking buddies’.
There is something about watching something grow, a business known as a saloon  in particular, because that business is  one that is based on the human desire to voluntarily  imbibe alcohol and put their dignity at risk in the process.
Now this is not a new thing.  When humans learned how to ferment just about any plant material and make alcohol from it, their imagination and creativity knew no bounds.    Had they applied their collective focus to medicine instead of getting sloshed, disease in humankind would be very nearly eliminated.
Archeologists find saloons in every civilization they unearth.  They’re mentioned in all the holy books, usually with an admonition to avoid such places.  Even at that, most holy books can be bent to sneak in a drink or two if the interpreter is clever since holy books never seem to say the same thing to all readers. Even though religion seems to forbid the imbibing of alcohol since it Makes Much of this from various pulpits On the other hand, some of our finest wines and liqueurs, even champagne, are made by or were conceived by monks.
This same sentiment, to avoid the saloon,  is echoed by most mothers but it seems as ineffective as the holy books since most saloons thrived at least they did for up to and including most of the twentieth century and certainly did so in America.

So what’s the big attraction.?  A new bar in a dumpy  looking building.  What was it that made The Bar different from any other in a dumpy  looking building?.
Two words…
The Bar

The actual bar itself…
In the 1800’s Brunswick-Balke-Collendar made pool tables.  Very ornate pool tables and they also made beautifully figured and carved back bars and bars custom fit to any area you chose.  They used a method of molding sawdust and wood fiber to resemble wood carving and were very capable in using veneer and between the woodworking and mirrors installed, they could take a plain, nondescript room and make it look like a palace.  When you sat at such a bar or stood facing it you were transformed back to the elegance of the Victorian Age.  An elegant Brunswick bar was like a wooden Siren singing to sailors from their rocky trap….
~/~
Man what a piece of work that back bar was… graced with nicely made faux Tiffany style lamps suspended….
Maple, cherry, mahogany  just what kinds of woods were in there was a source of constant genteel argument.
Brunswick…the bowling ball people…
Edwardian” was the model… great example of how a back bar, finely crafted can look… If it were done in marble instead of polished dark wood it would look like an altar for The Holy Mass…some say it was so inspired…
If this is truly the case it is an altar to Mammon for in the center was an antique NCR cash register
The Bar was proud of its Bar…and rightly so…
It was a gorgeous piece of furniture featuring a large central mirror flanked by four wooden Doric columns, two to a side, each pair separated by two narrow vertical mirrors.  The long top section and columns had tiger stripe ‘flaming’ of darker rays in the warm brown overall color.  The framing of the mirrors had beautiful examples of woodworking moldings and the central figure was a “carved” lion’s head.
Many saloons have fancy back bars but this one also had the original bar section included, a singular work of elegance hard to find today.
It was a bona-fide antique that had been lovingly restored by T.O. and friends.
“T.O.” Is what the patrons called the guy who owned the place.  The name is not important for this tale.  It could have been anything.  “T.O.” could mean “the owner” so let’s leave it at that and call him T.O.
When T.O first got the bar it was separated into its various pieces and had been painted white and stored for some years in a warehouse after it’s previous owner, a hotel, had gone belly up.
It became a labor of love to restore the thing.  T.O. and some friends  took it, stripped it of every vestige of paint and sealed and varnished it.
When it got installed somehow the main mirror was broken slightly…a ten inch crack in the lower right corner of the glass.  No one would admit just when and how it happened. Some say it happened during an after-hours party when T.O. was showing off how loud the company stereo could go but no one knew for sure or, better put, them that do know ain’t talkin’.
It was beautifully lit at night by three hanging lights, faux Tiffany lamps, controlled by  a dimmer switch. There was one at each end of the bar holding a single globed milk glass  and  one twin globed lamp over the middle of the bar.  All three lamps had Tiffany style stained glass shades.
The bar top itself was made of solid, nearly  three quarter inch mahogany.  It was well over a foot wide, a size  and thickness difficult to find nowadays.
As you faced the bar, the left end curved and went flush into the wall.  The right end did the same but it had a “gate” being a flip lid, (that had been removed) to allow the bartenders egress to go behind the bar.  This left a single seat by the side door at the right end where the bar section went flush to the wall.
This bar did not have a brass foot rail.  Instead it had a twelve inch foot ledge overlaid with 12” marble tiles.  The tiles were installed with donated labor by a tile mason so he might use it as a demo for his quality of workmanship  I don’t know if it paid off for him but he did a beautiful job of it.  The old tradition of having a raised area for one to put their foot harkened back to the old days when stools were not provided.  The foot rail helped ease ones back by allowing one to change their stance occasionally while standing for long periods.
The Bar had stools however.  The bar was surrounded by eighteen red leather covered barstools of sturdy manufacture, stout enough to support the heaviest patron and heavy enough to discourage their use as a weapon in any future disagreements.  It had two waitress stations each with brass stanchions and each with faux marble slabs which made the sliding of trayloads of drinks over the mahogany spill rail easier.
This was a bar designed to be a working bar.
It was gorgeous.
It was beautiful.
It looked like a movie set.  With such a bar, taking up almost one entire wall of the main room, you immediately forgot you were in a nondescript concrete box.
Those cement block walls were covered with smooth but unfinished redwood boards further adding to the illusion of ‘place’.
As you entered the building The Brunswick masterpiece was on the left wall..  On the right back quarter was a dance floor made of hardwood tiles that was of  a decent size.  It had an honest to god stage raised almost three feet off the floor, very sturdily built and carpeted…It was large enough to comfortably hold a four piece band and their gear and had a three foot fold-away extension which could be implemented for extra room onstage  when needed.
It had a good stage lighting and sound system for its day, run from a section of rail which divided the room in half.  The rail, more like a fence, allowed free passage at both ends and through its center to give some separation to the room. and was a good location for the sound mixing board.
Immediately prior to The Bar’s inception someone had tried to make a business of a Mexican restaurant in the place.  Since the only Mexicans in the staff were the busboys it failed but it left a full kitchen for The Bar to use.
There were about ten 24 inch cocktail tables and eight or ten  tables that were about three feet across and extra stack chairs on hand for busy nights.         Two bathrooms were down the hall as was the office…

The fire department said it had a capacity of 180 people.

The Bar was ready to open…

To be continued, it already is, fragmentally, in the “From The Bar” category on this site….