11/100: Restaurant Review

I'm pretty excited about this one.  We just returned from a wedding in Mexico just a few short weeks ago and visited this same restaurant on our way up to Todos Santos.  Our experience couldn't have been more different from this review. Between the solidarity, the wild sculpture art, the Mexican shaman that greeted us at the door and the psychodelic melodies of Pink Floyd blasting across the landscape, the entire visit was nothing short of magical.  I have my own perspectives on the reason behind this, however...

Day 11: Find a rotten review on the Yelp website, then write a short, 500-word story based what you think may have actually happened. How does the actual review omit? How does writing fiction allow you to see it from a different perspective? Length: 500 Words

Restaurant Review:

Art & Beer: Mexico 19 at Km 69, Pescadero, Baja California Mexico
Review: 1 Star
Date: February 12, 2016 

"We had heard so many good things about Art & Beer that we were excited to visit. Our group of 5 adults entered the outdoor restaurant after the waitress unlocked a chain across the entrance. There was a sign hanging from the chain that said there was a minimum charge of 40 pesos per person. The restaurant is basically a wooden deck in the shape of an arc. There is a stage about 100 feet away where some grey-bearded guy was banging away on an organ - brutal 'music'. Some of us had yet to sit down, we weren't ready to order, but she kept demanding we order. We looked at the menu and it was about twice as much as what we'd seen in other restaurants, so we decided to leave. We started to walk out and she ran in front of us waving the bill and started to yell at us to pay. We got outside and this short bearded guy who had run from the organ came up and started screaming at us to pay. We attempted to apologize to and reason with the owner but was met with yelling. We all left quickly and were stunned at the rudeness and hostility we encountered. We wouldn't have been surprised if the owner had pulled a weapon on us, he was so scarily fanatical. Never will any of us attempt to go there again and advise everyone to stay safely away from this nut." -lovemydog72

 The sun was slowly starting to find its way towards the horizon. From the small parapet, the grey-bearded man closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the sky.  The breezes he felt coming off the Pacific carried the unique scents of the Baja desert this evening. Conditions were just right, just as predicted.  The man murmured something into the wind before returning back down to the gallery below.  In a few short hours, the ritual would begin.

Eddie and Andy had been planning this trip for months.  The car they had rented in Cabo San Lucas was small and of the economy variety, but rode smoothly north over Mexico Highway 19. In the backseat were their girlfriends Dana and Shannon, along with Shannon's sister Erin.  The group of them decided to visit the Baja together before Andy and Shannon's upcoming move to Amsterdam. During their research, Andy discovered a charming, isolated restaurant just off the highway before Los Cerritos, called Art & Beer. It seemed inviting and quirky enough for them to love it.  Dana and Erin were famished.  The sun was starting to approach the line of the Pacific. Their timing couldn't have been more perfect.  Up ahead and to the left, an old, trodden cluster of buildings appeared, caught in the fading mirage of the late, summer day. A dusty and damaged Pepsi sign stood above the structure, playing the part of a long, forgotten remnant of Mexico's past.  If it weren't for the large sign propped up against the fence that read, "Margaritas Here!" they probably would've driven right by it.  Eddie sharply pulled the car off the highway and into the shallow parking area just outside the front entrance. They exited the car, took a curious look around and approached the front gate.

Odd, yet haunting and sometimes violent organ music filled the air.  From beyond the thatched-roof bar, strange, metal sculptures rose above the desert brush, casting long eerie shadows across the ground, their silhouettes flickering amidst the fire of the setting sun. A waitress approached. The air grew thick and heavy. The art around them seemed to come alive, passionately dancing to the hypnotic groans of the organ. Familiar lyrics rose to their ears, twisted and distorted"...but you can never leave...never leave...never leave..." The organ...the organ...her eyes...her eyes...were
suddenly fire.

"We're leaving," said Erin. "Now!" 

The spell suddenly broke, and the five were back in their car and down the road in less than a moment's time. The old man stood at the door, illuminated by the dusk, watching them fade into the night.  They wouldn't remember this. They would remember it another way, another that would ensure they never return.  Their souls were tainted, unclean. The Shaman fingered the wooden beads that hung from his neck and turned back inside.  The ones he was waiting for were still out there, approaching. Seconds later, the inviting music of the organ once again drifted through the air.