The Cock’n Bull’s founder was Jack Morgan, an Anglophile (Anglomaniac, some said), who was generally credited with making vodka a popular drink in America by concocting the Moscow Mule (vodka and ginger beer), which was served in copper mugs. He said, ‘Lift up the visor.’ I did and there was someone in there, asleep.” “I mentioned to the bartender that it was a funny idea. “I remember coming in one time and seeing a suit of armor lying in a chair,” said producer-director Robert Lehman. Professional ladies who patrolled the Strip called the mostly male habitues of the Cock’n Bull “the waxworks,” so interested were they in conversation above all other pastimes. He’d down two martinis, and two of the runniest soft-boiled eggs you’ve ever seen, and stride out. KCBS commentator Bill Stout said: “I have this image of Alan Mowbray, the British actor, striding in before noon, wearing a London bowler. said “the place has been jammed all week, everyone swapping memories.” “You know, Myrna Loy used to bring herbs from her garden to the (restaurant’s) kitchen.” “It’s like a wake,” says interior designer Jean Mathison, who recalled that the Cock’n Bull was the first restaurant she heard about upon arriving in Los Angeles in 1946. Saturday is the restaurant’s last day and some of its former regulars are flying in from as far away as Hawaii and Idaho and New Mexico to mark the occasion. Ironically, considering its name, the Cock’n Bull will become part of an automobile dealership. And another club, Ciro’s, where a practical joker dressed like an Arab sheik once created a near riot by dropping a bag of phony diamonds on the floor, is now the Comedy Store. The Mocambo and the Trocadero nightclubs have been replaced by parking lots. Schwab’s, the drugstore famous as the spot where actress Lana Turner wasn’t discovered, is now the Junk for Joy clothing shop.
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