Tonight a reader tipped us off to a video posted by comic Tamale Rocks, who uncovered a two-way mirror in the women’s bathroom at Chicago bar Cigars and Stripes.
Here’s the video, which shows the stall that has a second door equipped with a two-way mirror (on the other side is a supply closet; once you’re in it, you can clearly see whoever was/is using the toilet while in the stall):
After watching, I gave the bar a call to see if they wanted to comment—and boy, did they.
This all happened somewhat rapidly, with no time to get a voice recorder—luckily, I type really fucking fast and was able to capture almost everything the owner, Ronnie Lotz, had to say. The conversation really speaks for itself; the few questions I was able to edge in are in bold and italicized—insane shit Lotz (who is apparently obsessed about chicken wings) retorted with is also in bold, emphasis ours.
Oh, and, he gave us his email address. You can find that below, too.
(A woman answers.) “Bathroom mirror, how can I help you?”
Oh, excuse me, is this Cigars and Stripes?
Yes it is.
I’m calling in regards to a video posted about a two-way mirror in the bathroom—
(Man picks up) Hello?
Hi, I’m with Jezebel, and I’m calling about the two-way mirror in your ladies’ restroom.
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What does Jezebel do? I’ve never heard of her. And yes, absolutely: we have a two-way mirror in there, yes, yes; we’ve had it since 2001.
Okay. So, I’m just wondering why it’s in the ladies’ room?
Young lady, I have in my beer garden—I have a 10 and a half-foot hole. Did you know that it’s haunted. Did you know that a man fell dead. Do you know that we do seven days of Halloween. Do you know that mirror’s been there for the longest time. That woman opened the door. I mean she opened the door, there’s nothing in there. Open the door and pee and do what you want. Quite frankly I’m enjoying people calling, because I’m selling chicken wings.
Look, this woman is looking for a viral video. There’s a big movement in reality TV to be outraged about feminism. I’ve been in professional wrestling. So yes: come see my mirror; eat my wings—I don’t know what to tell you, honey.
And you’re going to keep the mirror in there?
I will burn this fucking place to the ground before I get rid of that mirror. Do you know how much joy that mirror has brought to us? We’re synonymous with Halloween. We do a freaky family fun day, and all the kids look in the mirror. This is a fun house, honey, and if you don’t like the two-way mirror, go fuck yourself; and if you come on my stage, have something to say. Everyone needs an angle. My angle is: I do barbeque; I promote it, and I break my ass for the local comics in Chicago. I pay them. I try to make them into rock stars. They do nothing, except for this. One girl said she wanted to pull her pants down and show her clitoris to me, and they all came and ate the wings.
So you’re the owner?
I’ve been the goddamned fucking owner for the past 16 miserable years, blood, sweat and tears. Do you know if Lenny Bruce was alive, he’d have something to fucking say about this. I go to bed for these comics.
But hey—how do you know this isn’t a publicity stunt I haven’t manufactured? You don’t, do you. You’re taking the word of someone else. How do you know I didn’t set that up?
Do you mind if I get your name?
My name is Ronnie Lottz, and by the way, you’re on speaker. Remind me again: you’re with Jezebel? Is that a little blog? [LOL]
Yeah, sure. It’s part of Gawker Media.
But wait, what are you guys, a small entertainment company? What is Gawker? This thing would go so viral if she was smart and called me on the fucking phone, but honey, you’d get 3 million hits on YouTube. 300 views [at the time of the call] ain’t going to do shit.
I’ll give you my email address and promote the shit out of your story—a big blast; Facebook campaign. Twitter isn’t going to get on it; she needs to be a little bit more aggressive—she’s really gotta go for it.
What’s your email address?
Got it. Thanks.
Look, she’s on the right track, she’s just gotta work harder. I can’t explain it to you. Everyone is looking for a viral video; you’ve gotta get one. She should have put a phone in there, or said I’m recording. What we have here is a comic with a bad set who’s looking for a viral video. She’s doing nothing with her career; she’s stuck in Chicago. We sell fucking chicken wings. They want attention. I’d love to be on the reciprocating end of this; I’ll take this to the next level. I’ve already got T-shirts being printed.
It’s like if you put something [about the mirror] into that Yelp thing: no bitch, you didn’t, somebody else did about fucking five years ago. It’s old news; the door is open; it’s for Halloween. We used to hang a witch’s head in there so that the girls would pee, and they’d look into a dingy closet and be all weirded out. We specialize in making people feel very uncomfortable. It’s why we’re successful today. If you get it, you get it. If you don’t, stay home.
Screengrab courtesy YouTube
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