La Posada

Simply memories

Long ago and far away, well not that  long and only several thousand miles. A place called Mountain View California. I was amazed , my first trip there. These people actually used irrigation on the highways? Who would have thought? Plants instead of grass, water instead of mowing?

This was at a time my father had just passed away, and some crazy man burned our business to the ground and took nine other stores for a financial ride they were not prepared for. The business belonged to me and Joey Arcail. We had worked several jobs apiece to get the funds to open this business. It was aptly named “ The Cheshire Stripper”. We had found a spot in a strip mall that housed nine other stores a deli among them. This was a furniture stripping and refinishing business. Joe and I had searched high and low for the proper equipment and had found just  the right tank in a junk yard in East Hartford. We spent time and money in transporting and re-welding this hunk of steel. When we finished with it, it was four feet tall , six feet long and four feet wide. This thing weighed around a thousand pounds empty. Of course we filled it with chemical stripper. I forget exactly but I believe that we used three fifty gallon drums to fill it.

The chemical by  itself was not flammable. We tried to ignite some clean stuff outside on a shovel. No ignition. Well this changes once you fill a tank with the stuff and then strip furniture of laquer, varnish, paint and urethanes. All of the other chemicals drop to the bottom of the tank and become volatile. Fumes hovering above the fluid .

Joe was working this day, it was a fourth of July Friday and in comes this fellow wanting to sell us his chemical. He had had a few drinks apparently . Long story short , Joe told him our chemical was not flammable and this caused this man to strike a match over the tank. Nine stores later-----.

Pat , my girlfriend , had left me to move to California, my father passed away and my  business burned to the ground. I believe I was depressed! I held a yard sale and gave away beer and lobster with a certain dollar purchase. Joe bought out my share of the business and I got on a plane to Mountain View, where they water the highways. Mountain View is around thirty minutes south of San Francisco and the same to get to San Jose. It was surrounded by extremely affluent towns and was a bustling area. I managed to find myself a job as a bartender in a new mall named the Old Mill. It had an inner court with a coy pond that went the full length of the place. There was a huge waterwheel almost in front of our restaurant. It was very soothing listening to the sound of waterfalls all day.  The place I worked was called “ La Posada”. This was a massive Mexican restaurant. Nothing one would see back east. This place could seat three hundred fifty at a time. There were around fifty seats on the mall floor and overlooking the water.  It was here I learned to make Margaritas by the pitcher and gallons a minute. I was new at some of these recipes and was schooled by the head bartender Juan. He was from Mexico but was well educated and spoke very fluent English and impeccable Spanish. For some reason he decided I was going to be his close friend. He always watched out for me and his very good friend Sergio decided the same . Sergio was a waiter at the restaurant and was as smooth as could be. They both made great tips. Marta was a waitress and a very pretty Mexican girl. She would always come to my station and coyly smile at me and bat her eyes. Juan and Sergio made it a point to tease me about her every time she came around. Apparently they thought we would make a beautiful couple.

Typically we would get out of work around eleven thirty. Across the pond were two huge bars . One was a restaurant as well . Bourbon Street Café and The Jumping Frog Saloon. The Frog was a place that held around a thousand people and mainly had live bands from the Bay Area. Many of the bands that played would become well known and become warm up bands for national acts. This place was great. Always full of women, and had a huge dance floor.

Bourbon Street was a much more serene place at least through the dinner hour. The restaurant was very separate from the club . There were luxurious booths of half circles and center tables had upholstered plush chairs. Table cloths and cloth napkins with crystal glasses.

Once dinner hour neared an end, the club started to come to life. As you entered the bar there was a quiet area just to the right and games of backgammon were always in progress.  There was a dj just off the dance floor. The place was painted to appear just like a street from the big easy. Houses , doors windows with actual iron grates. It was really well done and almost appeared real. There was a wrought iron spiral staircase that brought one from the dance floor to the second floor. The second floor was wonderful place. At this time disco was the  rage and all the women dressed to the nines . Most of the dancers that were serious , usually practiced before they hit the floor. It was great to see all these beautiful people so fluidly and rhythmically moving  to the sounds. The sound system was one of the best I had ever seen. The dj’s  were professional before their time.

This was a place that once caught in the fever of the club it was so hard to leave.

Juan , Sergio and even sometimes Marta and I  loved it there and spent many nights enjoying the club and each others’ companionship. It was a wonderful time.