"It's Not That Kind of Place"

As an American from the good ol' south, my heart yearns for corn-tortilla tacos with heaps of pico de gallo & guacamole (and spicy margs to wash it all down). So, when my best friend, Madison, (also from the land of good Tex-Mex) comes to visit me, we always go out for tacos.

Madison had seen a TikTok video recommending a particular spot in London, so I asked for the name of the restaurant and offered to book not realising that there was an "upstairs" and "downstairs" location. So, without conducting further (or any) research, I booked us a table downstairs and thought nothing of it.

We arrived for our reservation (it was Cinco de Mayo ... could it be more perfect?!), but we saw chairs on tables, doors locked and no one inside. It wouldn't be totally unlike me to book the wrong date or misread the time, but I couldn't understand why a place known for it's tacos and margs would be closed at 6 p.m. on Cinco de Mayo? So, I called them to see what was going on. They assured me they were open, but we needed to walk around the back.

"No, this can't be right," we thought as we looked up to see the address they gave us led to a storefront that had a bright, neon sign saying, "Peep Show." Surely I haven't booked us into a strip club? Can you even book a table in a strip club?! (That's rhetorical.) There was a couple near us that also looked confused, so I asked, "Do you have a booking here, too?"

"We're ... not sure." It was clearly their first time, as well.

Photo courtesy of Eating in London because I was too shocked to get a photo for myself. You can see why we were concerned and confused, right?

The only way to find out was by going in, but I wasn't willing to volunteer. So, Madison was the brave one. She walked in first, and I tailed behind with the couple we'd just met following along. All around us was PlayBoy magazine covers, sex toys and a whip on the host's desk. I probably blushed, but you wouldn't have seen with how dimly lit it was. Clearly very flustered, we said, "Oh, I-I think we're in the wrong place" and immediately began to high-tail it out the door, nearly tripping over the couple behind us.

"No, you're in the right place!" the host yelled out, catching us just before we made it to the door.

My internal monologue thought: I really don't think so. Do we look like the kind of girls who would come to a strip club at 6 p.m. (or ever)?

"No, we're just wanting some tacos and margs. Thanks, though. Bye!" we replied already half out the door.

"Yeah, this is downstairs La Bodega Negra."

"Oh, well, then I guess we are in the right place?" Madison and I said in unison, looking puzzled at each other as if we weren't sure we could trust him. We looked apprehensively at the whip on the host's desks as he confirmed our reservation.

"You can use it, if you'd like..." the host joked. I laughed nervously.

We sheepishly followed the host to our table where the rest of restaurant seemed relatively normal. No more pictures of PlayBoy models, sex toys or whips ... just a dark, downstairs taco bar with a Mariachi band and Bachelorette party.

I sighed with relief. We were going to get the tacos and margs we'd been craving after all.

As we took our seats, I exclaimed, "Can you imagine how many men probably walk in truly believing this is a strip club and are mega disappointed?" We laughed thinking about it.

The night went on one spicy marg after another. I danced with the Mariachi band. We cheered on the Bach party girlies. The perfect Cinco de Mayo.

As we were leaving, we caught the tail-end of a conversation between the host and a very confused (and possibly drunk) older man.

"Sorry, sir, but it's not that kind of place; it's just decor."

The man just replied with the most disappointed, "Oh?" I had ever heard and walked out so fast it was as if we imagined it.

We were barely out the door before we were doubled-over with laughter, wheezing as we tried to re-enact the brief conversation.

"Did you see the look on his face when he realised?!" I choked out through my gasps for air. Our throwaway comment became reality: someone really did believe it was a strip club and was very disappointed to discover it was a farce. And maybe it was the margs, but we laughed for a solid 15 minutes about that interaction.

The lesson learned: Upstairs at La Bodega Negra is the family-friendly, sex-toy-free section of the restaurant with large windows that give a cute view of Soho. Downstairs? Now, that's a different vibe entirely. Either way, you'll get amazing tacos and margs, so the choice of scenery is up to you.