Gilroy
– Police are frequenting two Gilroy venues, they say, and it’s
not for the drink specials. As Chips N Salsa and Krazy Koyote Bar
and Grill have grown in popularity, problems have surged, and bar
brawls are pulling police from the streets, said Cpl. Jim Callahan,
president of the Gilroy Police Offi
cers Association.
Gilroy – Police are frequenting two Gilroy venues, they say, and it’s not for the drink specials. As Chips N Salsa and Krazy Koyote Bar and Grill have grown in popularity, problems have surged, and bar brawls are pulling police from the streets, said Cpl. Jim Callahan, president of the Gilroy Police Officers Association.
“It’s a problem almost every weekend,” added Detective Stan Devlin, who investigated a parking-lot stabbing last week outside Krazy Koyote, the second such incident since November. “A stabbing here, a stabbing there – we don’t need this heartache.”
Bar owners aren’t happy either, and they’re anxious to stop trouble before it starts. Crime chills business, and even rumors can repel patrons, said George Headley, co-owner of Krazy Koyote. Episodes in the parking lot, beyond security guards’ reach, still smear its reputation. And ironically, he said, cracking down on crime can backfire. Headley calls police whenever problems arise, he said, but sometimes the bar gets the blame, as passing cars spot police cars or the newspaper reports the crime.
“It’s a Catch-22,” he explained. “If we call police, maybe they’ll say we call too much. If we don’t, we get in trouble. It’s a quandary. What do we do?”
Owners such as Headley walk a fine line. Without buzz, local watering-holes could dry up. In Gilroy’s sleepy downtown, Chips N Salsa has to sell drinks to survive, said owner Jim Angelopoulos, a newbie to the bar biz.
“Not enough people come downtown now for the food to sustain us,” he said. “We need to add another revenue source to stay open. It’s just the reality.”
But when local hotspots get too hot, businesses get burned. Happy Dog Pizza is still smarting from a brawl last year that resulted in one-month booze ban levered on the restaurant by the state Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control. It didn’t help that three ABC agents were slugged in the spat. Years earlier, police led the push to shut down Sandrino’s and Aces d’Oro, two local bars, said Callahan. Bar owners have been cooperative, said Sgt. Kurt Svardal, and communicate regularly with Sgt. Dan Castaneda, who coordinates the city’s bar and dancehall permits. But if problems persist, some say the city should reconsider the bars’ permits.
“It’s past time that these two establishments enter that arena,” Callahan said.
No one is shocked that bars bring problems – or rather, that people bring their problems to bars. Patrons slug it out at Krazy Koyote, argued Headley, because they know security guards will keep it under control. But the more people, Angelopolous added, the more problems.
“The challenge is, club owners want to make as much money as they can,” he said, “but if you overcrowd your club, you’ll get violence.”
Problems have deviled different bars over the past decade, said Sgt. Kurt Svardal, as crowds shift from one nightspot to another.
“It’s almost a cyclical thing,” he said. “Whenever you get a crowd of 21 to 25 year olds, and you add alcohol, it can be tough to control.”
Happy Dog learned that the hard way, said co-owner Steve Gearing. Though it’s tempting to court the bar crowd, “a market where people come out with a lot more frequency,” he said, “it’s just too tough to manage. We’re a family restaurant, and we’ll leave it to the bars.” Since last year’s melee, Gearing shut down 21 and younger nights, turned up the lights and turned down the music. In March, the restaurant will re-open with shorter hours and new decor; Gearing’s keeping the details under wraps.
To combat crime, Angelopoulos cuts off patrons at 1am, and hires savvy bartenders to suss out who just doesn’t need that next drink. Guards whisk a metal detector over barflies; “certain colors and jerseys” are banned, to avoid goading gangs. At Krazy Koyote, pat-downs and wands keep weapons out of the bar, and parking-lot sweeps flush out loiterers.
“We’re trying to run a good business for the community, so if the police told us to change specific things, we’d change them,” Headley said. “We’d be stupid not to.”
But ultimately, he said, parking-lot rumbles might be the price of popularity.
“We’re the happening spots in Gilroy,” he said. “If it was that bad, people wouldn’t come.”
