We went to this bar to celebrate a friend's birthday. The setup was cool. The entrance is from downstairs in front of the Hotel Valencia. Classy. Go ahead and take your car keys out and run them alongside any Ferrari or Porsche you see parked nearby. You take an elevator up and you're in a lobby. The bar area is there. The bathroom is out into that very well-lit lobby. Being a little bit of a germ-o-phobe, I didn't appreciate having to walk through metal beads reminiscent of a larger dogtag necklace. Think of it as a metal bead curtain. You know, the bead curtain at the videotape rental place in the corner. The corner of the store you can't get to unless you are 18. You find a friend who is 18, and the day they turned 18, you made them go rent a movie. But in order to rent the movie, you had to grab a ticket/tag hanging off a hook in front of an empty box. Your 18 year old friend takes that ticket/tag to the counter hoping to get a copy of "The Hills Have Thighs." The clerk hands him a black case with the tape inside, and he meets you out by the bike rack, you guys head right home, where mom and dad won't be home until 8 pm because it's their "date night." You rush to put the tape in, and you know what happened? Some kid beat you to that corner. Some kid, you might even know, has another 18 year old friend, they went beyond the bead curtain, they got into the adults only corner, and they took the tag for "The Hills Have Thighs" and replaced it with "Chicks with Dicks." So now you and your 18 year old friend are watching a light saber fight including 2 tummy sticks.
Anyways, this was a friend's birthday, so our group of friends wasn't really ethnically diverse.
Enter: Drunken White Dude.
This guy, a total class act. Shouldering everyone he walks past without apology. Sidebusting every picture he is in the background of.
He casually walks past my brother, who I assure you is in no way any kind of Mexican, and shoulders past him causing him to spill beer.
Strike 1. Strike 2. Strike 3. You're out.
My brother informs him of the need for an apology, to which the drunkard replies with "(cursing), you Cholo!"
Luckily, my brother was holding two beers. So the contents of the other got thrown on the guys face.
Round 1.
The guy is furious and threatens my brother's life with his pale hands. His girlfriend gets in the middle of it and is also furious at my brother, egging for him to hit her. He doesn't. But she does get put in her place verbally.
Round 2.
The drunk continues down a long list of other wrong-race commentary to no successful avail. A friend of our throws a cocktail glass, with the cocktail still in it, at his head.
Round 3.
The drunkard continues his racist tirade attacking every ethnicity and culture possible. Hello, the rest of everyone else in the bar.
The police come and escort him out. We all get kicked out of course, too. The guy and his girlfriend get protection as the angry mob looks on. read more