Hotel bars are really funny. The decor is always either in the style of the hotel, which is generally the least barish decorative styling possible. Featuring, like, African masks and paintings of sparrows perched on gnarled branches with the morning sun glistening off the dew bespeckling their delicate wing feathers...for instance...OR in some tackytaculously wonderawful theme a la “Tiki Tom’s” (who is this ‘Tom”?) or “The OK Corral Saloon” (how original). I find this lovely. I only want to go to hotel bars from now on. I mean, I’ll go other places too, but as far as bars go, I want to keep it in the hotel category.
Irvine does not have a single bar...in the traditional sense. There is no corner pub, no neighborhood “spot” if you will. There are strip malls with restaurants that often feature a bar section. There is the Irvine Spectrum; a spectacle of an outdoor mall, with a Dave and Busters, a Ferris wheel AND a merry-go-round, some strange themed clubs (which do not count, because they involve dancing/entertainment, and we’re talking BAR here), an Improv, lots of shopping and restaurants, and an Edwards 21 movie theatre with an IMAX. This is where you go if you are age 12-18 on a Friday night, well before 10pm so as not to stay out past the 10pm city curfew. You might also end up here on Friday night if you are kind of gross and from a city far away where there is even less to do than Irvine and you always wear shorts and a tank top no matter the weather. Still, not even one true bar exists in this complex of “fun”.
One awesomely convenient thing and also just plain awesome in general thing Irvine does have is an airport. It’s called John Wayne, which is rad cause I love cowboys, and it has a giant statue of him in a cowboy get up. There are postcards of this, one of which I happily own. The airport’s code is SNA for Santa Ana, which is super dumb, because it is clearly in Irvine. Anyhow, there are tons of hotels nearby the airport, which are definitely in Irvine as they all have Irvine before their name, such as the Irvine Courtyard Marriott. Last night, my friend and I went to El Torrito for margaritas, as you do, which is also right by the airport, next to IHOP and a place called Gulliver’s. For Gulliver’s Travels, which is cute, I guess, because of its proximity to an airport, which is clearly all about travel, so there’s that connection. I needn’t mention what a menagerie of choice these restaurants offer to the hotel guest’s discerning palettes.
So, we’re at El Torrito and we’re talking about this Irvine debacle. We’ve both lived in other cities, that are actually city-like, have bars within walking distance to housing and corner stores and homeless people and hookers and the like. I like Irvine, more than I could’ve imagined as an idealistic teenager wanting to experience “real” life (I use quotes a lot...and parenthesis). However, the lack of bars is kinda annoying, especially since there is absolutely no alcoholic drinking opportunities within walking distance. We were talking about how there are so many bars in Seattle, where I went to college, and that people would go drink at the hotel bar near my school after school, or even, haha, in between classes. And thus, the brilliant idea was born. We were literally surrounded by hotels.
After a second margarita, made super especial, especialmente for us by the kindly bartender at El Torrito (the little bull) we were off to the Hilton. This bar was decorated in the style of the hotel, meaning there were these strange giant gourd-like things everywhere and giant light fixtures on the walls that looked like piles of sticks. It was also kind of in the lobby, which was a little strange. We were the youngest people there by 20 years and it was a little awkward at first. We hunkered down at the bar. Football was on which my friend liked as a football fan, and I liked as a girl who likes to watch strong men run around in tight pants.
After a few minutes a 50ish year old man sat down next to us and we started chatting with him. I was immediately skeezed out. Best news of the evening: He was in no way creepy, and did not overtly hit on us. There was a bit of flirting at the end of the evening, when we’d all had a bit to drink. And he was married, so that was a little weird. But whatever sexual whateverness that ended up being there was in no way the point of anything that was going on. He was genuinely nice and personable and happy to be there. And yes, we hung out with him all evening at the bar. I had an awesome time. It was the best time I’d had in awhile. Not exactly true, cause my best friend’s wedding was two weeks ago, and unbeatable in the best night ever category.
I can't get over the fact that yesterday was a normal day and I just kept on doing normal things, decided to hang out with a good friend and I had SUCH a good time. I want every night to be the best night and every day to be the best day, every TIME to be the best time. It is so possible. Mindset you know. Not caring you know. Not worrying. Being available. The best part: it doesn't even have to be in a hotel bar! You can have the best time anywhere without even trying. In fact, trying, usually makes it not good. Alls you gots to do is just live that life and be happy.
Thank goodness for hotel bar adventure number 1. Actually, lets face it, I was one of those students that would (occasionally) drink in between classes at the hotel bar by my college. BUT, I wasn't aware of the hotel bar adventure possibilities, so lets compromise and call this one 1.5.
<3
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