San Diego Unseen: An Urban Portrait
Enrique Limon
- Photo by Lizeth Santos-Roberts
Located in a place that puts the “strip” in strip mall and forming a sort of bar Bermuda Triangle with Wong’s Golden Palace Dragon Room and Shenanigans Irish Pub just a stone’s throw away, Mr. G’s tavern (7081 University Ave.) is, without a doubt, the grand dame of La Mesa dives.
The perfect joint to grab a chilled shot of Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey, engage in an impromptu Connect Four tourney or get razzed by the seasoned cast of regulars, among the first things you’ll notice is a Super Bowl XLI sign announcing that “the party’s here.” Never mind that the placard is four years old, the message still rings true.
Mesmerized, I nursed my beer and gazed at a show on the elusive jellyfish playing on Animal Planet.
“You know, whenever you get stung by one of those, you gotta find someone to pee on you,” a gal to my left shared. “Home remedies are always the best,” she continued with a wink.
I agreed.
Later, she engaged in some sweet Dougie meets Macarena moves.
“I injured my shoulder at work, and I gotta stretch it out to relieve the pain,” she said. “On a side note, I’m hoping someone from YouTube notices me so I can start a new dance craze.”
The fact that she was doing it to Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ Mary Jane’s Last Dance added a poignant touch.
Suddenly, her rhythmic tai chi was interrupted by an arsenal of cop cars speeding by, sirens a-blarin’.
“Oh, I guess it wasn’t us this time,” Bill, one of the regulars, exclaimed. turns out that last Saturday, the place was raided after a patron was spotted carrying a pistol-shaped lighter.
“I don’t know what she was thinking,” Bill said, “but a whole SWAT team came inside the place, interrogated us and made us empty out everything in our pockets.”
“Everything?” Wide-eyed, the Macarena maven asked, almost curing herself of a nonexistent jellyfish sting.
“I’m sure glad I wasn’t here that night, I’ll tell you that much.”
Cue the sirens.
