When I was a kid, I used to get highly annoyed when Zsa Zsa Gabor would giggle with Mike Douglas about some party they had been to. But they’d say in hush-hush tones that they simply couldn’t talk about what went on. I furtively asked my mom if they had been “been doing drugs and org -ees (with the hard ‘g’).” My mom was like, “What?!” I think my dad’s vintage Playboys made a disappearance from his bathroom at that point.
Well, I like telling my stories! So, here’s my adventure heading to San Salvador’s Willy’s. Having seen how lively Ceache was at dinnertime, it just felt like there would be a similarly jumping place to get a nightcap. It was just about 11 p.m. on a Sunday, my second night in the nation of El Salvador.
Well, all the neighboring hotel bars were closed. Then, there was this kinda of speakeasy place that reminded me of the speakeasy Jimmy Who? in Tel Aviv, but this place was actually rando, not trying to create a rando feel. There were groups and couples all drinking, apparently planted there for the duration. Immediately, the bartender said they were closed. It was time not to believe our lying eyes. On the stairs going down, there was a warning sign about the grade of the steps, which were chaotic and unmatched. I took a hard hold of the banister and it came off in my hand. Well, as my grandfather wouldn’ve said, it was “time to scoot!”
Did I mention I was wearing my pjs and some Hot Flops with chili peppers and maracas? It was a last, last second decision to go out.
Even though San Salvador feels very safe and that’s to be very commended, it’s a good idea to be careful at night in a foreign country where you’ve never been and don’t have a good working command of the language. Time for Uber! Believe it or not, the Uber to go chasing around the back alleys of the capital only cost $2.50. The driver didn’t really know what might be open and took us to a place that was closed. But there was salsa music playing somewhere and people heading down a closed off road. It was time to bid adieu to the driver (and keep an eye as to my phone battery) and see what there was to see.
Willy’s is a casual restaurant/bar and really, an emporium. It cost a few dollars cover charge to get in and the security guys outside meant business. I didn’t take a lot of photos, because I was totally out of my element. I was trying my best not to do or say anything offensive. This guy here looked a little tough. In the front of this humongous venue were young people dancing salsa to a DJ in raver lighting.
Heading to the very back, lit like a high school gym, were middle aged, working folks.
I looked at the menu and it was a combo of American bar food and what they call “typicos”: their authentic home cooking. But, I had just had a delicious dinner.
I noticed that the place was equipped to handle massive crowds, with 6 service bars, I counted. There were local beers in the cooler. I was kinda staring at them, figuring out what I wanted to commit to. Just then, this older fellow built like a linebacker was coming around, pouring people shots of a fancier tequila. Was he the owner? No! He was just there with some friends and family, BYOB from home, like no big deal.
He came to pour me a shot. I thought, “What the hell? Adventure!” It turns out that he was a Salvadoran who was visiting from his current home and business in Canada. He had a friend there, also Salvadoran, who had spent time as a Asst. U.S. District Atty for Northern Virginia, out of Alexandria, whom I took to now be in private practice. Well, it just goes to show you never know!
Luxe & Down-Home Cuisine/Culture/Travel/Style 