Remember Santa Monica Nights*

SOUTH, Santa Monica

Thursday, 8:00-11:00pm

We drove by the sports bar multiple times, unable to find the building due to the very modest sign located below the distracting overhang covered in neon. Look for the giant "Jerry's Liquors" sign, the bar is immediately after on your left if you are coming from the west. We were able to easily access street parking and proceeded to the entrance. Try to arrive before 10:30pm or you may run into a line.

As early as 8:00pm their wasn't an open seat in the house, which is nothing compared to the occupancy level on a game night. Despite the crowd, we were easily able to sift through and get to the bar where we were immediately won over by the cheap, yet delicious Blue Moon on tap.

Tip: You will find a slice of orange hidden below the thin head of foam, they didn't forget it, just like to psych you out.

After a few laps around the room the only open tables that we saw were on the outside patio and who wants to sit in a cloud of smoke? We decided it best to awkwardly hover near the bar and wait for a stool to open.

Luckily we didn't have to wait long because a friendly man, with no ulterior motives or agenda of any kinda, approached and offered us his table since he and his friend were just about to leave. Sneaky men... instead of leaving they proceeded to buy another round (for themselves) and chat us up for the next twenty minutes using such fascinating topics as which celebrities we look like. Apparently, if Halle Berry and Lucille Ball were able to miraculously spawn a 20-something baby girl... she would be Lane.

Once reminded that they had planned to leave the bar, thus relinquishing their table, they tried to persuade us to follow along to a karaoke place down the street. Free drinks were offered up as bait, however, after much persistence, they were forced to pull out the big guns... Celine Dion. Tempting as it would be to watch a grown man publicly humiliate himself while belting "My Heart Will Go On" to a crowded room, we had to decline because... to be quite honest... these guys were losers.

Note: We have since realized that the "we were just leaving" method is a classic pickup strategy often used on dimwitted females and one might think, "Lame, that never works." However, we seem to be the idiots keeping the tactic alive and therefore promise to try to restrain ourselves if ever again propositioned... unless the guys are cute... or we really need a table.

Once alone we scoped the room to see what South had to offer in the man department. The guys here are primarily in their twenties and look like they just came from a frat house. You will see a lot of polos, sports team t-shirts and a large number of baseball caps. Most men seem to be out for "guys night" and stick to the group of friends that they walked in with.

First rule of South: Don't leave your table.

Second rule of South: Don't leave your table.

Third rule of South: Don't talk to anyone. They may try to steal your table. Trust no one!

Dilemma of the night... sit in the corner, at a table, or make an attempt to socialize and forfeit seats to the awaiting vultures? For research purposes we decided to break all aforementioned South rules and abandon our chairs in order to interact with the other bar goers.

What better way to do so in a sports bar then by playing pool? Under the usual circumstances, this is a sure-fire way to strike up a conversation with the surrounding menfolk; however, at this bar it seems that a girl needs a blowtorch and crowbar to pry a guy away from his current debate about who's gonna make it to the final four.

We had all but given up on the place when a couple fellas invited us to join them at their table. (Note: This is different from being offered said table. We did realize that we would be sharing the space with them and listening to their attempts at witty banter.) Their "winning" discussion topics ranged from whether or not one is to eat the rind encasing brie cheese to their ingenious plan to invent a salty peanut toothpaste that can be washed down with a refreshing pint of ale... who needs minty breath in the morning?

Our delightful little chat came to an end when a man sporting a 70's porn mustache walk by. Penny couldn't help but mention that no man should ever be permitted to don a mustache... of course with the exception of Tom Selleck. It was at this precise moment that the future inventor of salty peanut toothpaste bolted. We were stunned. He literally turned without a word or giving a hint of reason and sprinted from the bar. Perhaps he wasn't a big fan of the stache or found Mr. Selleck to be particularly offensive, but whatever the explanation we decided to take his lead and extricate ourselves from the rather interesting patrons found at South.

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Location: 18/20

Street parking is readily available. The area is safe enough to walk in a small group and though we haven't checked them out we hear there are other good bars within walking distance.

Atmosphere: 14/20

Its a sports bar... lots of TV but most of them are playing the same thing. Pretty good sing along music and while there is no dance floor you are always welcome to make your own among the tables. Its full (to overfull) most nights but you are better off coming with your own big group since everyone gives off a very cliquey vibe. Its a pretty good space for a birthday party with a large main room and a side area that can be reserved.

Service: 15/20

Bar service is fast and friendly. Table service inside is nearly none existent though outside it is as good as any other sports bar.

Drinks: 15/20

They have close to ten beers on tap and even more in bottles. There is a full liquor selection, but the mixed drinks tend to be pretty weak. There are a few wines to choose from, but that's not really what they're about.

Price: 16/20

Happy hour... amazing! Regularly beer is still a good deal but mixed drinks are really overpriced for what they're pouring. Btw... One dollar grilled cheese and chips during happy hour!

Random: -1

Sign is virtually invisible!

Total: 77%

Penny Lane

*This weeks quote was brought to you by an amazing artist. Two words... David Hasselhoff. Two more... chest hair.