“a woman walks into a bar…” at the Eveleigh
on 10/07/12 at 5:49 pma woman walks into a bar..., BoozeBlog
I just happened to be going minus 30 mph by the Eveleigh, on the Sunset Strip, and I thought, fuck this fucking traffic, that bar is beckoning to me. Fifteen minutes and a hundred yards later, I finally parked the car, unfolded myself and walked swiftly past the Armani Exchange – 70% off – to the Eveleigh which used to be the Kenneth Cole store. Well, they did a mighty nice job converting the place with a huge bar right in the middle as you walk in. My Valhalla – Hall of Traffic Warriors.
Cattle skulls dangle appropriately over the bar as tribute to other traffic warriors who made it into the bar. While the real Valhalla receives the souls of heroes slain in battle, believe me, having spent almost two hours creeping along and making it only halfway home, I felt like a slain soul but not in the least heroic. I’ll have a Manhattan, thanks. Old Overholt, Carpano Antica, bitters and two Luxardo cherries speared with a pick hovering over my delicious fix. Ahhhhh.
Thoughts of traffic fall away as I fantasize about jet packs. What’s that? Someone’s tapping me on my sleeve, out of my reverie. “Hi, what brings you here today?” Me: “Traffic. You?” “I’m Glenda, the Good Witch, from Nashville.” Glenda tells me she’s here on BMG‘s nickel training a newbie in music accounting. We chitchat about country music, jazz, Nashville, her grandkids and then, suddenly, it veers to the personal.
Glenda’s story is worthy of Jerry Springer, according to her. She’s originally from Colorado, moved to Nashville. Her husband left her for her 18 year old niece. Nice. Turns out he had been molesting her since she was a kid and then when she turned 18 (as though that mattered but I guess it kept him out of jail), they ran away together back to Colorado. He was 42. “I can’t for the life of me figure why she wanted to be with him after all that. My family couldn’t believe it. Of course, she got preggers but, fortunately,” according to Glenda, “had an abortion. That was twelve years ago.”
“So, are they still together?” Glenda wearily shakes her head. “Nope, they’re not together but she did marry another older guy and now has three kids.” “Where’s your ex?” “No idea. Must be in Colorado someplace.” “Have you spoken to your bitch of a niece since then (I didn’t say ‘bitch’)?” “Funny you should ask. I recently reached out to her. It was time.” But I could see Glenda was still burdened by what had happened. “You were blind-sided, right?” “Totally. But I look at the bright side. I wouldn’t have gotten this job and had a chance to travel if we would still be together so that’s the good part.” Nothing like making a little lemonade.
And this is just one story. One story, like one of those thousand points of light, that you hear at a bar where the bar is the people’s couch and they feel free to bare it all. Some people tell me they don’t like going to bars. What’s that about?
I’d have another drink and chat with Glenda some more but it was time to hit the road. She invited me to stay with her in Nashville and told me she’d take me to F. Scotts jazz club so maybe I’ll just take her up on that. I mean who doesn’t want to go to Nashville?!
8752 W Sunset Blvd
West Hollywood, CA 90069