night out in othello = a big waste of time

Welcome to Eastern Washington Weekend’s first edition of Where not to go in Eastern Washington!  Today’s not-so-hot spot: Othello.  The culprit: our friend Alex, for whom an adventurous spirit is often an asset, but in this case had him eating crow on the long drive home from a failed attempt at a fun night out in Othello.

Here’s what happened: Friday before last, Steve and I were enjoying some drinks at our favorite local wine bar, Imbibe.  Actually, as far as we know, it’s the only wine bar in town.  We were joined by Alex, his roommate Tony, and our new friend Fabio, a German guy who was lucky enough to score a two-month international internship with BMW, and unlucky enough to have Moses Lake as his sole reference for American culture.  I do not mean to speak ill of my new home (I will reserve that sentiment for my description of Othello), but if it were me, I would not want my entire United States experience to be winter in a rural town.   Thankfully, Fabio plans to do a little touring after his stint at BMW, so he will be able to tell his friends back home about the culture, arts and cuisine of both the city and the country.  I can be reasonably sure that our trip to Othello will not make the highlight reel.

So anyway, there we were, enjoying our drinks at Imbibe, and Alex started making the case to take the party to the neighboring town of Othello.  Let me clarify here that “neighboring town” does not mean a jaunt down the road.  Othello is a good ½ hour car ride from Moses Lake, much the same as the other “neighboring” towns, like Ephrata and Quincy.  Alas, against our better judgment, Alex convinced us, and we decided to make the trek to Othello and see what the nightlife was all about.  Fabio was kind enough to agree to be our designated driver (talk about ambassadorship!) and off we went down the dark, empty highway toward the bright lights of Othello.

As we entered the town, it became immediately apparent that Othello is not the night hotspot that Alex had implied in his description.  Along the main street, all the windows were darkened, leading to our growing feeling of disappointment.  We brightened up a bit when we saw some flashing colored lights in the window of a nearby hotel, next to a large windowless building with DANCE CLUB painted on the wall in big block letters.  Fabio pulled over the car, and we entered what we thought was the door into a hoppin’ nightspot.  As it turns out, the door we entered actually led to a Chinese restaurant that was about to close.  The proprietor informed us that the door to the dance club was actually around back.  Having come this far, we dutifully walked around back to an unmarked door, and stepped inside.  Upon entering, it was obvious that the term “Dance Club” was applied rather loosely to this establishment.  The brightly-lit space contained no dancing people at all, only a group of four men playing pool in the corner.  The 70-year old woman with a chain-smoker’s voice acted as bouncer, and demanded a $5 cover charge for entry.  When we realized that she was not joking, we decided to try our luck elsewhere.  Bouncer-Granny was no help, warning us that Othello “rolls up the sidewalks after 9 PM.” 

Facing a long drive back to Moses Lake, we were not quite ready to give up on Alex’s dream.  So, we piled back into the car and drove around what there was of the town, looking for signs of life.  We did not have to drive far before coming to another windowless building marked “PUB” by a lighted sign out front.  Considering that this place actually had cars parked out front, we were already in better shape than we had been ten minutes before. 

Elated that our trek to Othello was not in vain, we happily walked in and found a table. We received several stares from the patrons as we entered; clearly it was not typical for a group of Moses Lake kids to wander in on a Friday night.  However, no one really seemed to mind that we were there, so we just made ourselves comfortable.  Unfortunately for Alex and Tony, who had hoped that a trip out of town might lead to meeting some interesting girls, the patrons were 95% male.  And, as one might expect for a working-class, small-town, all-male-customer-base-bar, the owners had obviously not invested a lot in ambiance.  Again, the space was brightly lit and the floor looked like it may not have been mopped for quite a while.  However, I do harbor an affinity for divey spots, and the furniture was not fancy but certainly functional and the tables were clean.  Plus, I enjoyed the upbeat Spanish-language music on the juke box, and the Coors Light and pulltabs were cheap and plentiful. Things were looking up.

However, my evening started another nasty downhill turn when I decided to use the ladies’ room.  Thankfully, there was not a line, as my bladder had barely the capacity to last the long search for our Othello night spot.  The problem came when I attempted to leave.  The single-use bathroom was actually not much more than a closet with a ½ bath inside.  I had locked the door to the tiny space on the way in, and when I attempted to unlock it, the knob wouldn’t turn.  I turned the lock every which way, and nothing seemed to help.  I continued to try the knob in vain, getting increasingly panicked. 

Eventually, someone started knocking at the door because I was taking so long.  I tried to knock back and yell through the door, but apparently the music outside was too loud for anyone to hear what I was saying.  I closed my eyes and made myself breathe until I finally calmed down enough to regain some presence of mind.  I called Steve, who was wondering what had become of me.  He immediately came to my rescue, and explained my situation to the two miffed girls still waiting outside.  Having no key, one of the girls stuck her artificial fingernail into the lock and turned, releasing me from my porcelain prison.  I vowed that I would not attempt to relieve myself again until we returned safely to Moses Lake.

Once I returned to the table and explained to everyone why I was missing for so long, we tucked in to our pitchers of Coors Light and platters of fried food and tried to make the best of our –er – interesting evening out.  Lucky for us, good company can make up for almost any less-than-perfect situation, and I think all of us ended up having a good time, though I think all of us would say that we don’t plan to return to Othello any time soon.