No Blues at The Blue Room

The name is not a misnomer. The Blue Room, a small dive bar in Burbank, really is blue. Located on San Fernando and Alameda, right across from Hollywood Video, and adorned by a steel entrance, this hole-in-the-wall of a gem is the perfect place for happy hour, drinks after work, or alcoholics looking for a place to drink their sorrows away (I mean that in a good way). It's the type of dive bar where people become regulars there, also known as "that guy."

Gladly and I wanted to check out a new bar on Tuesday night, and we had narrowed it down to three choices: The Dresden on Vermont, Tiki Ti in Silver Lake, or The Blue Room in Burbank. The first two were somewhat far away from my home but still very attractive. We then read Zagat Survey's L.A. Nightlife 08/09's description of The Blue Room: "cheap drinks, great atmosphere, and the waitresses have been there since the place opened." Sounds like heaven to me.

After parking in the limited lot behind the bar, we were greeted by a looming blue neon glow. It felt a little like we were walking into Bruin territory. You get what you expect from the name of this place--the bar is literally one room where the walls and furniture are blue. On your left proudly stands a dart board. Across from it sits a very eclectic electric jukebox that could cater to any one's needs. The booze is right next to the jukebox. Hip hop music filled the atmosphere, which I was kinda bummed about it because I wanted trashy dive bar classic rock, but beggars can't be choosers. And that's pretty much the place.

I told Gladly, "You know, I have yet to see a prehistoric waitress here." Immediately after saying that, a woman around her 50s with saggy skin and cigarette-colored fingernails asked for our order. I looked at Gladly and said, "Oh, well there you go." I then looked around for the "regulars." He wasn't too hard to find: he was an old, somewhat fat Italian man with a chest as hairy as a gorilla. He wore a gold chain that hid in the forest of his chest while drinking straight whiskey. Gladly described him as Evil Knievel on acid. I felt like he was one of those guys that would go up to someone and say, "Your sitting in my seat" and then proceed to show the person where his name was written on it.

We ordered two beers (one Newcastle, one Sam Adams) and observed the other bar patrons. It was a pretty good crowd for a Tuesday night. There was a large party sitting at the blue lounge tables, and a pair of really cute girls sitting right next to us (ok, one was super hot, and one was kinda not so hot, so combined they averaged out to really cute). Working up enough liquid courage after two rounds of boilermakers (a shot of whiskey with a beer chaser), we started thinking of a game plan for these two girls. However, we were soon distracted by a really cute girl in a red dress. Not to say that she actually talked to us (not yet anyway), but I saw her from across the bar and was starstruck. She looked exactly like Mel from Flight of the Conchords, one of my favorite shows at the moment. I kept wondering if it was her. Then, I heard her speak--it was totally Mel. On Flight of the Conchords, Mel is the only fan of the New Zealand folk duo in New York. She obsessively stalks them and tries to seduce them in very creepy ways. Her most intriguing feature--she has a distinct high pitched nasal voice. When I heard her talk, I knew it was her. After this confirmation, I realized that her wingwoman was none other than Kelly the Indian girl from The Office!

We needed a whole new game plan. Gladly and I went outside for a cigarette to ruminate about philosophical quanderies such as what's the best pick up line, how do you hit on a celebrity, and the father/son bond (don't ask me how that got thrown in there--we were getting pretty drunk by then). Then, God threw us an easy pass: a girl came up to us and asked if I could take her photo. Who was she taking the photo with? None other than Mel herself!

Kage: Holy shit, are you Mel from Flight of the Conchords?!
Mel: Haha, yeah.
Kage: Holy fucking shit, man! I love your show!
Mel: Thanks. Haha you two should be friends (pointing to the other girl)
Kage: Smile!

I had to take three photos, which got kind of awkward, because that damn neon blue light kept fucking up the sharpness of the photo. Fucking Bruins.

Then, the random girl was kind enough to take a photo of me and Mel and emailed it to me later. Although not the greatest photo, hey, at least we got one.A couple beers later, Gladly and I decide to go buy some cheap Black 'n Milds, just to have something to smoke (we are both trying to quit cigarettes at the moment, and yeah, we had one earlier, but give us a break, quitting is fucking hard). We were a little sad to leave this charming shithole-in-the-wall. I mean, where else can you get two beers for 8 bucks? Two boilermakers for 13 bucks? That's fucking cheap, man.

Overall, I think The Blue Room has a unique dive bar charm. The bartenders are friendly and energetic and willing to take shots with you. The waitresses probably have tons of stories to tell. The atmosphere was chill but still lively. And we got to meet Mel from Flight of the Conchords. I'd say that there be no blues at The Blue Room.