The Wild Side West

My friend Damon and I were at a local SF bar the Wild Side West one eve circa 1997. Let it be known I have always loved the Wild Side West, and none of the following events are looked upon disparagingly, in fact, they encourage my admiration of this fine establishment. All of the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

Randy wasn't able to bring his dog into the Wild Side West, a sticky rule for a bar in a neighborhood nicknamed Dogtown, but because it was raining and Randy needed a drink, he leashed his dog Arfie outside in the rain.

Upon sussing the situation, and knowing Randy never went anywhere without Arfie, the co-owners had a small chat to themselves about the dog. One owner thought it was too cruel and thought it humane to let the dog in, the other thought the dog should stay outside, or more than likely just thought Randy should go. Randy bought Damon and I each a shot of tequilla. We liked Randy and I figure a dog can take a few raindrops. So as Brenda, co-owner #1 asked Randy to go ahead and bring Arfie in, Randy said aloud to the whole bar, "People you are my witnesses, I don't want to bring my dog in, but Brenda says I can, so I'm going to, Brenda, I won't get kicked out right"? Brenda stated that she would not kick Randy out for letting his dog in out of the rain. As soon as the dog was let into the bar, Shirl, co-owner #2 screams at Randy, "GET OUT! I told you not to bring that dog in here, now get OUT"! Randy acted as if he couldn't believe it and said "oh no, oh no". Randy then proceeded to step behind the bar and turn a large bottle of cheap red wine upside down into his lips and chugged a good 1/3 of the bottle before Brenda stepped up to take the bottle from him. Randy stiff armed her to the ground without missing a chug. Brenda walked with a limp, used a cane and did not have a graceful fall. Shirl ran out of the bar yelling for the police, a weird move for a bar owner, they generally don't like the fuzz hanging around asking questions. Damon and I really wanted to stick around, but we both had warrants out, Damon's warant was a bogus grand theft auto charge, and mine a trumped up petty larceny rap. I thought we should probably leave and as we put on our coats we noticed Arfie had found the giant bag of popcorn used to feed the hungry bar patrons during happy hour. Arfie had it good, and that made us happy as we got wet walking home.