The Patrons of the Canyon Inn Like Their Pussy Shaven
[Editor's Note: We all know local music and dive bars go hand-in-hand. So in the interest of merging the two together on Heard Mentality, we bring you our weekly nightlife column Dive, Dive, My Darling. Read as our bold web editor, Taylor "Hellcat" Hamby, stumbles into the dive bar scene every week to find crazy stories, meet random weirdos and guzzle good booze.]
Taylor Hamby / OC Weekly
You may know Canyon Inn as that bar from Bar Rescue in 2011. Or as the only neighborhood bar in Yorba Linda, a Quaker town that until relatively recently, historically speaking, allowed no alcohol to be served within city limits. I know Canyon Inn as that place I never want to go to again.
It's not the dirtiest dive bar in Orange County. It's not the only place you'll get hit on by someone you're not interested in (though we did name it the best place for such an occurrence to happen in our 2012 Best Of issue). Or the only place with bartenders who will give you 'tude. But it's a combination of the first bad experience I had there and the failures of the second and third chances I've given the bar that make me say, "Never again."
The first time I went was with the Weekly's LP "Danger" Hastings sometime in August 2012, post-Bar Rescue. I hadn't seen the show or the 48-year-old bar before, so I had no expectations.
It's a spacious room with brick walls and several towering flat-screens. There are two pool tables and a stage for live music (read: middle-aged cover bands). There's liquor, six beers on tap and a good selection of about 40 bottled beers. There's also an extensive menu of traditional bar finger foods, salads, even steak and shrimp.
The bartender was a ditzy blonde but nice enough. There were just a few other people in the bar with us that Monday night. LP and I were playing pool when we were approached by a group of young guys. "Do you guys want to play pool with us?" they asked.