Adventures at the Crackerbox Tavern.

24 Jul

What makes a bar special?  Is it the decor?  The drinks?  The food?  Perhaps the clientele? For me the Crackerbox provides all this and more.  The first time I drove past this place, I literally slammed on the brakes and said “Holy crap!  That’s a bar?”  I can only describe this place as 1 part dive bar + 3 parts hoarder-house.  It literally looks like your white-trash grandfather put an ‘Open’ sign on his creepy garage and started selling booze out of it.  How this is an establishment that has a real liquor license is beyond me.  Check out the Yelp reviews to see for yourself. How it pulled off a 4 star rating has got to be for the morbid fun factor.

If this were the Pearl, this would be a ground-breaking art installation. 

The Ceiling 

It only makes sense that one of my friends would end up working here.  She’s originally from Fresno, and I dare say only someone who has lived in a place that trashy could handle working at this bar.  Whenever I have a Saturday or Sunday off, I try and go out and visit her while she’s working.  The first time I went, some guy clogged up the toilet and rendered it useless.  I showed my friend how to make a toilet flush using a bucket of water, harkening upon my hillbilly skills.  The second time I went, she told me that someone had stolen the toilet seat the night before.  Today, it was “crazy person” day.

Usually the clientele is made up of locals-blue collar types.  For some reason, today was a totally different story.  Right after I arrived, a man in a cowboy hat that I can only describe as looking like a ‘rapist’ came in and paced back and forth.  Then a woman in a bedazzled shirt asked us to watch her chihuahua whilst she went to the market and bought cigarettes and candy.  I sat with a shivering dog on my lap as a woman with flame red hair, 3 inch long purple acrylic nails and a $300 purse came in.  She allegededly used to work there and kept mentioning her Mercedes.  Still holding the dog, I then had a very long conversation with a man in an epic denim jumpsuit about the quality of today’s soy milk.  He told me that as a street person, every dollar counts and he wants to purchase quality with his money.  Although going off on brief tangents about the government and the country of origin of pomegranates, I have to say he made a good point.  The bar was starting to get crowded, and my friend was becoming busy.  I was just about to leave, when a woman in a teal green belly shirt came in holding a statue of Buddah covered in ants.  She had no teeth.

A covert shot of Mrs. Mercedes and a gentleman in a wolf shirt.

Mr. denim spills his beer while a relatively normal guy looks on.


The chihuahua lady.

PhotobucketThe toothless buddah lady spit on the floor and was 86’d after I left.

One Response to “Adventures at the Crackerbox Tavern.”

  1. pussy April 12, 2014 at 11:51 am #

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