I thought it might be interesting to read fellow tiki drinkers war stories - you know the type of story - the one where you enter the Ti, have a drink... then another, and before you know it, you're sacked out Bill Maher's couch at his house wearing ladies underpants. Hmmm.... well, let's not start there.

I'll start with one of my many from the Ti....

Last year about this time, the Palm Springs Junta, decided to blow off some steam and hit the Ti on a Friday night. We got ourselves a driver, blazed down 10 and seated ourselves at the bar at 4:00. Michael, always the gentleman, served us our first drinks and as he always does offered us cigars from his own stash.

Before you knew it, San Diego Dan dialed our boss and hung up on her. Of course she promptly called back. The excuses fell out of the sky like a Tahitian rain storm in winter. After that came the prefunctory texting of everyone we know.

Two hours later and five drinks in we were ready to go to dinner. I knew I shouldn't have another, but Mr. Savage kept pushing everyone to order a Zombie. The Zombies tasted good, but I knew it was too late. I had been bitten.

We tipped Michael, paid our bill and flew off to Marix in West Hollywood for some Tex-Mex. Along the way we stopped at the lights long enough to yell out the windows the name of the infamous modern day anti-tiki missionary, Drab La Noeb (think Abner Hale), announcing to everyone along the way that the Earth was only 7000 years old and that Dinosaur bones weren't real (according to the Reverend La Noeb, they were actually planted by God to create the appearance of a much older earth). I vaguely remember a meth addict coming up to the window and asking if I was all right and offering to help me.

By the time we arrived at Marix I was zombified. Doing the Day of the Dead stroll, I managed to find a porch two houses down where I collapsed in a pool of my bodies own sweat. I was dying.

Meanwhile, the Palm Springs Junta merrily snapped photos with their camera phones and finally carried me to our table.

Vomiting throughout the meal, on my plate, my shoes, and onto the table, I recall looking up at the Junta as they merrily ate their meals. San Diego Dan, a saint really, took a towel and wiped up my vomit. I remember saying to him, "You're such a good friend." To my utter disgust, everyone else just ate like nothing was wrong.

Oddy, no one seemed to notice. The place was packed and there I was puking all over my plate, table and the floor. After I ate what I could, I stumbled to the bathroom and camped out. People were pounding on the door and when I opened it, a man in a dress seemed distress by the mess he found. Apparently we were at a Gay restaurant. A fact that seemed to bother and confuse Mr. Savage. Hmmmm.

I wasn't the only one zombiefied. Upon my return, San Diego Dan stood up and insisted that after paying the bill we all leave without paying a tip. I was horrified, but being a zombie, I complied. I still laugh when I think about the poor waiter who discovered the "tip" of puke we left. But you can't blame us, Zombies don't really have manners.

Off we went to Whiskey A Go, Go. Walking to the SUV, I lifted the tail gate and threw myself into the back. As it turns out, it was a cage. Trapped, I called my friend, Data, back in Palm Springs. All I got was his answering machine. In desperation, I left the following message, "Help, I'm trapped in a dog cage and I can't get out." I hung up. Two days later, I found out that his caller I.D. wasn't working. He got the message and assumed it was from his black sheep brother. Panicking, he began calling all of his family members for help.

Meanwhile, and four scalped tickets later, we stumbled into Whiskey. A satanic looking man wearing a bustier and with horns in his head announced we were in Hell. He kept saying over and over that, "We weren't supposed to play tonight, but you fans made it possible." By fans he meant vampires. Tom Petty, as it turns out, was right. They were everywhere. But what the hell, we were were zombies. What could they do to us... bite us? Yeh, right.

And slowly but surely, as images of Gene Simmons and other oddly dressed people walked by, my skin turned from green to brown again. I was human and I was hungry. Tired of the goat music, I walked up Sunset as the rest of the Junta drove. We met up a Mel's and there I had the best Steak and Eggs I can ever remember eating. I even ordered a chocolate shake for the drive home.

As we got back into the van, two in the morning, my thoughts returned to the Ti.

I can't wait to go back.

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

[ Edited by: telescopes 2009-06-11 09:07 ]

[ Edited by: telescopes 2009-06-11 11:46 ]

[ Edited by: telescopes 2009-06-25 18:37 ]

Seriously, I am sure many of you must have some really entertaining stories in a similar vein. I can't be the only one to have danced with the natives.

Didn't dance with the natives but I did sit in on a blues jam session with them once. I brought a harmonica, Dave brought his bass, two or three dudes busted out didgeridoos.

That is a very funny story. Mine is more brief. I once got back from Europe, headed to the Ti, and had one Great White too many. It did not become apparent until I had a Margarita or two at El Chavo's next door, which, combined with my jet lag, put me into a slumber while sitting on the toilet at said locale. I don't know how much time passed, but enough for Jeff Berry to wonder what happened and awake me by banging on the door. Someone drove me home in their truck and I barfed out of the window while driving off, under the applause of Mr. Berry.

telescopes!
Great Topic!
I bet everyone has at least ONE of these stories!
:lol:
Never vomited in a gay restaurant
BUT.....
according to Sven
and the story I'm about to tell...
Bathrooms ARE THE place to pass out!

Here's one from at least 10 years back...
went to the Sun theatre(?)
(the name has changed so many times-it's in Anaheim by the stadium)
with an ex-girlfriend
to go see SUPER DIAMOND
well, my ex is a seasoned drinker
i am not.
We drank a bottle of wine
then another
and had some dinner
Then the show started
Front Row
We drank some beer this time
fancy bottled beer
and another
and another
and another
and another
and i began a-thinkin to meself
"Hey! I may just score tonight !
We're both drunk enough!
It might just happen!
Wheeeeeeeeeeee!
Feeling good
and confident of the evening's progress
(we were only 2 miles from my bachelor pad studio)
i went to take a tinkle!
Stumbled into a stall
tinkled
then vomited
some more
and some more
cleaned up my face
popped a breath mint
(like that's gonna work)
and closed the lid on the toliet
and sat down....

i awoke a second later
and stumbled out to the lobby
and it was empty
In fact, the whole auditorium was empty!
'cept for a couple of sweepers/janitors!
the concert was over
and my date was GONE!
So i did the only thing a man could do...
Stumbled 2 miles
(past Arrowhead Pond and even along the Santa Ana riverbed)
back home
listened to my answering machine
grieved over missed opportunities for the evening
then passed out
and woke up with the Worst hangover ever!

Hey Now we are talking!!!
:o :roll:

I've been told that I like to brag too much about my Puking episodes.
eh whatever.

here is one, involving the Tiki Ti

Jon Paul was doing the Photo shoot for the Tiki Mag piece on Tiki Ti a few years back, we were there early before they opened.
it was a Wed. TC night.
I had had breakfast but no lunch that day.
so while helping him with lighting for the shoot, I ordered a Zombie,
then after the decor shoot was done, Mike Sr. asked JP if he wanted to shoot some pics of some of their most famous, and good looking drinks.
so he shot 6 drinks, and when we were done with each one, he asked, what do we do with these, Mike Sr. and Jr. both said "DRINK EM" hahaha ok, no need to twist my arm. so we split those 6 drinks half each. I think I may have ordered 1 more drink to sip on after a bunch of TCers showed up, but after the motherload I was pretty much wiped out.

I remember sitting in the corner with my head against the wall for about 4 hours just in a daze, listening to conversations, but not really contributiing anything. finally at about 11 pm, I needed to get up and go to the Restroom, and after I came out and went outside for some fresh air,
I was looking at a Hot Rod in front of the Tiki Ti, when wafting across Sunset Blvd comes the aromatic allures of a smell I had not smelled in 10 or more years. I remembered as if it were yesterday.
"Oh my god I smell Pioneer chicken" they chain of restaurants had been closed for a long time, but it turns out there are still 5 in existence.
and one is across the street, and down about 100 yards from Tiki Ti.
I was mesmerized, and HAD to go there and eat asap.
JP went with me and I Proceeded to order a 3 piece meal, with side of corn on the cob and buttermilk biscuit and Beans.
JP asked me how it was, and I stuck my greasy hands in his then Vegetarian face and said smell(As Grease dripped off my elbows),( I think that was 1 of a few things that brought him back to the meat eaters club)hahaha.
I then stupidly drove home in a alcohol and food coma.
and as I got out of my truck to walk up to my house, I thought oh no, and
turned around quickly and ran back to the gutter.
I proceeded to barf up all of that food and some of the drinks that were still in me. I wont go into gory details, but it was alot of food.
So Much so that I had to get the hose to wash it down to the drain to the sewer.
I then stumbled into the house and fell on my bed.
then got the worst case of bed spins that I have ever had.
even the trick of putting 1 foot on the floor, didn't work.
finally after half hour of moaning and groaning I passed out.

now I eat Pioneer before drinking at the Tiki Ti and it helps to soak up some of the Booze, and I have not barfed AT or After the Tiki Ti since.

but there are other places and other stories.
hahahha;-)

Jeff(bigtikidude)
"Where Good Rum is Immortalized, and Drinking is an Art"
"And, When that old "Demon Rum" slips past the lips it still works its ancient,cheerful magic" (Don the Beachcomber)

[ Edited by: bigtikidude 2009-06-11 10:58 ]

While I've been to Tiki-Ti many times... I don't have too many clear recollections of anything after leaving there.

[ Edited by: telescopes 2009-06-12 08:46 ]

O' yes!

Pioneer Chicken
Neighborhood: Silver Lake
4376 W Sunset Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90029
(323) 663-2441

I'm heading to the Ti this week. Thank God, I'll have a place now to soak up the rum.

By the way, my previous visit to the Ti the time before my adventure with the gang from Palm Springs cost me over $1100. After a pleasant time at the Ti with San Diego Dan and his lovely wife, we headed home, merrily engrossed in deep conversation. Again, Mike Sr. had provided us cigars from his stash. Zombies, Ray Mistakes, etc, etc flowed like a parade of ash trays pounding out Toro, Toro. Somewhere near San Bernadino, a crazed county cop pulled us over and asked if we had been drinking.

We told him we had indeed had a drink or two. To our horror, he began screaming at us and told us we were all liars. He then asked us what we did for a living. We told him we were "teachers." He then paused, and at the very top of his lungs, he yelled, "It's your lucky day TEACHERS!!!!!!!. You better pull over at the next exit and figure out what your going to do.

He then turned and got into his cruiser and drove away. Stunned, I went to Tennessee Ave, pulled over and somewhat shaken that a crazed cop would scream at us and accuse us of being drunk and then DRIVE away.

I promptly ran over a blind curb and broke open my oil pan. Like puke from an old drunk, oil poured freely onto an AM and PM parking lot.

$500 in tow charges and $1100 in repairs afterwards, I thought about the true cost of those five drinks at Tiki Ti.

What a bargain.

Imagine if I lived in Ft. Lauderdale. The plane ticket, hotel costs, rentals, and everything else would have broke me totally.

Cheers!!!!

As the thread-starter mentioned, I too, was there on that shadowy and mysterious night at the Ti. Many of us have walked into the Ti thinking, “This place is small, these drinks are sweet, I can handle it”. That is not true, for you cannot.

The Ti possesses a magnetic quality, drawing one in like a beckoning siren lures in whoever she may choose. Once inside, however, often that rational area of the brain tries to explain and/or reason one into thinking that it is nothing more than a “hole-in-the-wall” bar, and it is at precisely this moment that you have already been taken.

Once you lose respect for the Ti, the seeming surreal events that follow are beyond the infantile illusion of the “control” you may have thought you had walking in.

Mere words can’t explain the power of the Ti so let me use an example:
There are 2 brothers, one knowingly takes a tab of acid while the other is slipped a tab of acid. Although both will go on a hallucinogenic trip, one will acceptingly go there while the other will be unwittingly “taken” there, much to his shock and horror. Those who walk into the Ti knowing what they are getting into will still embark upon an evening of limitless possibilities where time itself seems to hang suspended, as if waiting for events to unravel before resuming it’s normal course. Going into the Ti lacking respect and understanding can send one into a downward spiral of such magnitude, that their entire world will shake like a beetle on a pin.

On this particular night, I am happy to say we (most of us in the group) went in respecting the Ti, but the events that took a group of normally benevolent men on a wild, revolting, and fiendish joyride through L.A. as recounted in the above story, could have never been foreseen or even welcomed for that matter.

Oh, the good news is we'll both be at Tiki Oasis this year so if you want to hear more, we'd be love to swap stories with you.....just be careful if you decide to share a table with us :)

Telescopes, loved the story... you definately have a way with words :)

I'll be sure to keep a weather eye next time there's a full moon!

TikiMookie, thank you. I think a thread like this is important because ultimately, these experiences help to remind us that even as adolescent boys (or girls) tiki helps us continue the joyous art of escapism we all practiced in our youth. And like all things, there are consequences. However, the Ti has a way of throwing us backward in time to where I think each of us has said something to the effect, "Man, I haven't been that wasted since I was in____________________.

Escapism isn't about hiding, nor is it about turning a blind eye to reality. It is about living in the moment and not giving a damn about the past or the future. It's about loving this moment at that time. It's why we can drink five or more drinks at the Tiki Ti in one setting.

This thread should be a sticky.

Sandiegodan:

Tiki, tiki, tiki ti
Tiki, tiki, tiki me,
Time to travel to the sea,
Tiki, tiki, tiki ti.

Tiki, tiki, tiki ti
Tiki, tiki, tiki we,
Time to smoke and drink
Till on our knees.

Tiki, tiki, tiki ti
(Ah, hell, let's just go down there now and work our way through the 88's.

Great song, and even better idea Telescopes!

"As long as I have legs, I will walk into the Tiki ti."
~Sandiegodan, 2009.

I'M SURE MARIX WAS VERY HAPPY TO HAVE HAD THE PLEASURE OF SERVING YOU FINE "ADULTS." No different than a pack of high school kids drunk on old english descending on the neighborhood Denny's, terrorizing the place. What a boring story.

[ Edited by: hanford_lemoore - removed the 50-line quote from a 3 line post - 2009-06-23 19:38 ]