The Patrons of the Canyon Inn Like Their Pussy Shaven

The Patrons of the Canyon Inn Like Their Pussy Shaven
Taylor Hamby / OC Weekly

[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.]

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.

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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.

 

No, I really didn't, but we decided to be friendly and accept their offer. LP and I played against each other, with one guy each on our team. In between turns, the guys tried to get to know us, taking stabs at conversation. That's when one boy asked me, "Where did you go to high school?" It was a simple question, but it made me stop and take a good look at this kid. He stood just taller than 5 feet and had such a baby face. Was he just out of high school or, heaven forbid, still in?

We all went out front for a smoke, and the boys started talking about their pubic hair preferences--in the presence of ladies, mind you. "I like my pussy shaven, man," one kid said. "Of course, if I'm already down there and there's some hair, I'm not going to say no." Charming.

The conversation eventually turned to their own nether regions. "I Bic that shit," another guy said.

LP disagreed, saying the prepubescent look was not appealing on men or women. "Do you shave?" a kid asked me.

"That's none of your business," I said.

LP and I had had enough. We had come here for a girls' night, only to be surrounded by perverted man-children, so we left. If that was the kind of night we wanted, we would've gone to Main Street in Huntington.

The second and third chances I gave the bar were not redeeming. The last straw? You can't even get some late-night grub from the Del Taco next door because it closes at midnight. Yorba Linda, your nightlife needs some work.

BEST BATHROOM GRAFFITI: Fuck Steph! FAVORITE PIECE OF FLAIR: The novelty Breathalyzer box by the ladies' room.

CANYON INN 6821 Fairlynn Blvd., Yorba Linda, (714) 779-0880; www.canyoninnsportsbar.com.

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