CULTURE

Outside, the intersection of University and Euclid avenues is quiet-not uncommon for a late Tuesday night in City Heights-but inside the cracked exterior of the iconic bar that calls this corner home, there's mischief afoot.

Tallboy cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon stand in a staggered line across the bar-rockabilly tough guys, bleach-blonde punk chicks and tight-jeans-wearing hipsters sit just an arm's length away. The joint's owner, Mick Rossler, a skinny Australian-born bloke with a pompadour James Dean would've envied, kicks open the back door, his arms loaded with trays of grilled peanut butter and banana sandwiches (Elvis Presley's favorite snack).

It's almost midnight, so Rossler doesn't waste any time. He rushes to hand out the paper plates and sandwiches to the dozen or so folks at the bar. Some have no idea what's going on, but most came knowingly for a rousing alternative to the midnight snack: The Tower Bar's Competitive Eating Challenge. The music shuts off, the lights come on and the eaters take their places.

The arena for the banquet battle is one of the last original art deco buildings in City Heights. Painted teal with yellow and pink trim, The Tower Bar's bright, almost circus-like appearance contrasts starkly with its drab, dilapidated surroundings. The building has survived on this rundown stretch of University Avenue since 1932, first as a drive-through soda fountain, then as a series of failed restaurants and bars, and now as the favored dive-bar hangout among older rockabilly types. More recently, perhaps thanks to Lady Dottie and the Diamonds' weekly Monday-night performances, younger scenester kids have been patronizing the bar, too. Of all the building's identities, however, there's remained one constant throughout its 75 years: The ground floor has always been used as some sort of drinking or eating establishment.

And speaking of trivia: The Tower Bar is famous for withstanding a car smashing through its walls in 1964, the effects of which can be viewed while hovering over the less-than-pristine toilet seats in the women's bathroom-a newspaper clipping captures the unfortunate incident with a concise headline: "Car Smashes S.D. Bar, Taking Life of Patron."

A wall away, there's a picture of The Tower Bar when it actually had a tower jutting up from its rooftop. The architectural wonder was taken down in 1998 due to structural failings ("It was made of plywood, and it was really old and full of pigeon poop," Rossler says), but a new, improved tower will be erected in June if the city's redevelopment agency approves the project on April 24.

Rossler looks like he was born to own a dive bar, but he didn't actually grow up with bar towels and booze on his mind. The Aussie bought The Tower Bar five years ago when he was desperate and unemployed. A City Heights resident, he'd been by the building but had never actually set foot inside because he thought "the place looked kinda shitty." But Rossler went ahead and bought the bar anyway. "I like owning a bar," he says between drags on his Camel Light. "It's like having a party at your house every night."

Two television screens loop muted Russ Meyer films at either end of the bar. Black and white boobies bounce over Rossler's shoulder as he pulls out his camera and gets ready to snap live-action shots of the night's Competitive Eating challengers.

"The thing you have to remember," says one contestant as he stacks his sandwiches on top of one another, "is it's 90-percent mental."
"You've gotta expand your diaphragm," says his friend next to him, patting his extended belly. "I like to take the horizontal approach. You know, like Donald Duck eating corn. Oh, and my secret is to chew and wash it back with Guinness... and you can't look at anyone else. You have to have the eye of the tiger."

"Go!" yells the bartender, and the sandwiches begin to disappear. There are various techniques-some eat around the edges first; others use the typewriter approach-but the ones who fare best are those who smash their stack of sandwiches into one revolting ball of peanut butter, banana and bread. Within minutes, there's a winner who signifies his victory by downing a shot of whiskey, standing up on a barstool, holding his hands above his head, hollering and bouncing around like Rocky after he ran up the stairs.
"There's some guys I don't stand a chance against," says the winner later, after settling down from his elation. But the six-time champion eater known as LFA (short for El Jefe, or The Boss) says he isn't talking about a stereotypical fat guy. Surprisingly fit himself, LFA says it's usually the skinny guy with skills who takes home the $30 bar tab, the Eating Competition's coveted prize.

"Most of the time it's not a big guy who wins it," Rossler agrees. He gets serious for a moment. "It's an athletic ability." To illustrate his point, he tells of the time he won the pickle-eating contest against a 300-pound Samoan.

"Pickles are my favorite thing in the whole wide world," says Rossler, who always competes and almost always wins when pickles are involved.

Rossler likes to eat, but he hates to cook. He says the idea for the Competitive Eating Challenge came out of a basic need. "I have a DJ who likes to eat but doesn't have any money." That's resident DJ Mikey Ratt, whose appetite led to the suggestion of a white-trash buffet to accompany his Tuesday-night shifts. Rossler answered the call by treating Ratt to a bowl of green Jell-O with Vienna sausages suspended inside. Inspired by a few dares to actually eat the creative concoction, followed by dares to see who could eat the most, the men abandoned the buffet idea for an all-out eating contest.

Rossler prefers to use uncooked items for the competition, things like Slurpees, Cheetos and Twinkies.

"One time I made them eat wasabi peas smothered with wasabi paste out of pint glass," Rossler says, "and I made them do it with chopsticks."
Jillian, a regular Competitive Eating contender, chimes in with her horror story: "We were eating chili cheese fries, but before we started, Mick told us to eat with our hands behind our back. Then he came around and poured hot sauce on everyone's fries."

It's all part of the challenge-and part of Rossler's plan to keep packing people into the historical Tower Bar for 75 more years.

The Tower Bar is located at 4757 University Ave. in City Heights. The Competitive Eating Challenge happens every Tuesday night at around 11:30 p.m. 619-284-0158.