The Phone Booth
The story of LA’s most famous topless bar began on the Sunset Strip, achieved notoriety in West Hollywood, and was laid to rest back on the Strip; all within the space of a decade. The original nite spot was operated by H.E. “Rod” Roddewig and Walter Robson; both listed as residents of the same building on Hilldale Avenue, a short walk from The Phone Booth.
Sunset Strippery
Largo, 1968
Since the early 1950s, impresario Chuck Landis enjoyed success with The Surf Club, The Tiffany Club, and The Crescendo (with Gene Norman), before opening Largo in 1957.
The club initially offered jazz and vaudeville before realizing bump ‘n grind made more sense. Headliners included Candy Barr, Tempest Storm, and Lili St. Cyr.
The two-story building on the Strip formerly housed the Sunset Bridge Club— a dubious casino, complete with secret rom, disappearing walls and hidden mechanisms which was raided in 1939.
In 1960, Landis debuted his latest venture there, Exotica — an intimate Mexican eatery located above Largo. The smart new restaurant lasted just over a year.
After the Aztec decor and tropical waterfall were carefully removed, a new and unique establishment moved in; The Phone Booth.
With a concept similar to San Francisco’s sip spot, The Library (“where people are always getting acquainted”), the town’s newest nitery from owner H.E. Roddewig catered to the three-hour lunch set, while attracting a sports-enthusiasts crowd — no doubt intrigued by “Men Only Luncheons”, and beautiful girls modeling bikinis.
In June 1962, the Los Angeles Times reviewed the “jumpingest joint”;
You enter through a phone booth, at each table upstairs, is a phone connected to every other table in the place. See a blonde down the room, call her up. This is all presided over by a switchboard girl named Sherry.
The upstairs nightclub gained more exposure courtesy of radio station KABC 790 (“The conversation station of Los Angeles”) when owner Rod Roddewig was a guest on “Candid Sessions”. Hosted by Pat Michaels, the evening show encouraged listeners to call in with questions.
Additional interest came from Playboy in 1962.
The magazine was impressed with two gimmicks; the late-afternoon cocktail hour, with “an undress parade of peignoir pals clad in the latest and the least in lingerie”, and the late-hour, when “an intertable [sic] phone system goes into operation… pick up your phone, tell the operator which Alexander Graham belle you’re interested in, and she’ll make the connection.”
The business model was working; even practical Newsweek decided to drop by. Under the heading "Eat and Peek," the March 1963 article drew on the merchandising angle, observing the number of manufacturers and lingerie shops who happily supplied the skimpy wardrobes. Owner Rod Roddewig told the magazine that The Phone Booth had grossed $200,000 in its first year.
By 1964, The Phone Booth was being managed by Walter Robson, who kept the lines open until it closed in late 1966. That year, Robson discussed the door policy with Playboy magazine;
For one thing, I don’t admit beatniks, who have invaded the Strip with their motorcycles and long hair. I cater to the coat-and-tie businessman. But I’ve never had to forcibly eject anybody. They’re mostly big, docile kids, polite and taken aback by topless.
The prolonged article also noted The Phone Booth’s hazel-eyed, anhydrous-headed hostess, Irene Ziemer (above right). The 20-something modeled nude for college art classes and was previously arrested for dancing topless at the “Pussycat A Go Go” in Torrance. Miss Ziemer would be arrested again in 1970 for performing at the “Sassy Lassy” in San Pedro.
After the demise of The Phone Booth, Walt Robson remained busy as part-owner of “Pat Collins’ Session” — located across the street in a club formerly known as “Maximes”.
His next venture would make headlines.
Phone Booth West
Located on the northwest corner of La Cienega and Santa Monica Blvd., The Phone Booth was opened in August 1967.
Of course, the top of Restaurant Row wasn't always so salacious.
The corner spot was home to several restaurants starting in the 1940s, including Kiefer's Pine Knot Drive-in and Beecher's Charcoal Broiler. By 1956, it also housed the short-lived Ted Steele's Steakhouse, which served prime cuts in an English tavern atmosphere. The olde thyme theme was kept for its next iteration, The Dover House.
The Dover House came under new management courtesy of well-known restaurateur Albert Califano (1908-1996), though the popular spot closed its doors around 1966. The genial maître d’ opened The Cameo Room in Hollywood and remained busy with Room at the Top on Sunset and Stefanino’s in Beverly Hills.
A Whiff of the Weird
Firmly settled in its new home, The Phone Booth became rather popular. Aside from anguished businessmen, open-minded wives, and oblivious tourists, the topless bar enticed one notable celebrity, Jim Morrison.
When not exposing his wedding tackle, the Doors frontman was known to enjoy a few Black Russians during his time as a regular at the Phone Booth. According to Jerry Hopkins, the author of The Lizard King, the poet turned punter insisted that his business meetings take place at the topless bar. The locale made perfect sense, given the band’s office was next door, and Morrison’s residence was a stone’s throw away.
Original slide in author’s collection.
In his 2005 book, Jim Morrison: Life, Death, Legend, author Stephen Davis wrote;
Martin Luther King was shot to death on April 4th while supporting striking sanitation workers. Black Americans rioted that night in thirty-nine cities. James Brown went on national TV and pleaded for calm. In West Hollywood, Jim Morrison got loaded while watching the topless dancers at The Phone Booth gyrate to “People Are Strange.”
But the favored watering hole also received a visit from the vice squad. Following a raid in September 1969, three dancers were arrested and booked on suspicion of indecent exposure. Robson didn’t evade Johnny Law either; the proprietor was booked for suspicion of aiding in the act.
As luck would have it, the three dancers were acquitted by a Beverly Hills judge, citing lack of expert testimony from the prosecution.
Known as Ordinance 9885, the ban on topless dancing was soon ruled “invalid and unconstitutional” by Richard Schauer, presiding judge of the Los Angeles Superior Court. A few months prior, the Supreme Court deemed “topless dancing” per se to be a form of expression protected by the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution.
While the ruling did not prohibit the arrest of a topless dancer on charges of lewd conduct or indecent exposure, it also meant dancers could not be arrested for simply being topless.
By 1970, in Los Angeles, new rules stated bar owners could see their licences revoked by the Alcoholic Beverage Control Board (ABC) should they continue hiring nude or semi-nude dancers or entertainers.
Phone Booth business cards in author’s collection.
L.A. LAW
One case deserves a mention: Sail'er Inn, Inc. v. Kirby. In October 1970, the Supreme Court agreed to consider the state law prohibiting the employment of female bartenders.
As it existed, the Business and Professions Code, Section 25656, prohibited women from tending bar, except when they were licensees, wives of licensees, or were, singly or with their husbands, the sole shareholders of a corporation holding the license.
Three Los Angeles bar owners brought the case, including The Classic Cat, doing business as "Sail'er Inn". The party sought to stop the Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control (headed by Edward J. Kirby) from revoking their licences for simply hiring female bartenders.
Original slide in author’s collection.
In July 1971, the law was declared unconstitutional.
Regardless, The Classic Cat and other area bars, including The Phone Booth, continued their ongoing battle against anti-nudity laws. Sadly, the tide was turning; Chuck Landis’ Largo subdued its fare and converted into a music venue, and the Playboy Club on Sunset decamped to Century City.
By late 1977, The Classic Cat, owned by actor Alan Wells and Manuel Miller, was out of business; adding the word “Cabaret” did little to help. The famed burlesk house was replaced by University Stereo ("More Music for Your Money").
Adult entertainment faced another battle in 1972, after a new Supreme Court ruling gave the California Bureau of Alcoholic Beverage Control the right to enforce a set of lewd rules adopted two years prior.
As it stood, topless entertainment was permissible with certain criteria; G-strings had to be worn, lewd acts were not performed, and performers are on a stage, 18 inches high and six feet from the nearest customer.
Between California cleaning up nude shows and the Supreme Court ruling in 1972, the topless-bottomless industry was in trouble. However, bar owners were prepared for a fight, and many enlisted the services of a defense attorney, Harrison W. Hertzberg.
The attorney, who represented Charles Chaplin, Jr. on a drunk driving charge in 1958, had taken on several obscenity cases, including Melodyland Theatre in Anaheim (1967), the Bottoms Up club on Melrose Avenue (1971), and the Crazy Horse Saloon in Vallejo, near San Francisco.
Known as a free speech and women’s rights attorney, Harrison W. Hertzberg also operated several restaurants, including Stefaninos and Ciros. He passed away in 1987.
Coming Home
Almost a decade after “Hollywood’s most notorious luncheon restaurant” closed its doors, embattled bar owner Walt Robson moved his old bar back to familiar territory; the Sunset Strip.
Situated across the street from Largo on Sunset and Doheny, sat a small row of two-story buildings. Conceived in 1933 as a “store and apartment building”, the structure housed everything from a casino, a Louise Brooks dance studio, a theatrical agency, and a hairdresser.
Literary agent H. N. Swanson discussed the building in his 1989 book, Sprinkled with Ruby Dust;
The year was 1934. Sunset Boulevard was still a half paved and half dirt road. Although rents were high on the stretch that ran through West Hollywood, I kept looking until I found what I wanted. It was a modest little building at 9018 Sunset, and I learned that the owner of the building had been waging an unsuccessful struggle to keep up his rental income in face of what the Depression was doing to everyone else.
In the mid-1960s, several fleeting restaurants appeared; Versailles, the Velvet Crest, and finally, the town’s newest topless bistro, The Stop — which sustained fire damage and faced closure from local authorities in 1966.
The short-lived Stop topless club barely survived a year — shut down by the County Licence Appeals Board. Adding to its downfall were objections from attorney David Leanse and developer Ronald Buck. Amid the rioting teenage rampage of the Strip, both men were pushing heavily to incorporate the City of West Hollywood.
Despite their efforts, the plan to annex the Strip was abandoned in 1967. A year later, Ronald Buck found more success with his own club in West Hollywood — The Factory.
Clearly, this was the perfect spot for Walter Robson’s rejuvenated Phone Booth, which now added the word “cabaret” to its name, installed fixed seating, and operated fully nude.
The Phone Booth (1973), new location at 9018 Sunset Blvd. The business was also listed at “9016”.
Sunset Boulevard, 1973 : Roll 12 : La Cienega headed west : Image 127.
Photo by Edward Ruscha.
It lasted two years.
As was still the case, adult clubs around the country were scrutinized, and the ongoing efforts to curb topless joints, massage parlors, and sex shops in many cities ensured their demise.
In 1973, the State Supreme Court decision allowed local law enforcement agencies to uphold the law on topless and bottomless bars. In Los Angeles, the list of targeted bars in Los Angeles (including The Phone Booth) read like a who's who of clever names, including; Bad Girl, Beaver Shot, Body Shop, Bull Pen, Classic Cat, Harem Club, Hi Dolly, Library of Lively Arts, Little Foxes, Log Cabin, Pink Pussycat, Puss and Boots, Rogues Gallery, and Wild Bunch.
The individuals apprehended were booked on indecent exposure or allowing indecent acts.
However, the The Phone Booth made headlines again in 1976, but not for any scandalous activity. A young man jumped to his death from an adjacent high-rise. The unfortunate landing area was the parking lot of The Phone Booth — noted as being vacant.
Two years after the line went dead, the topless spot became Best Sellers Cafe (anyone for "bookish brunch"?). Four years later, Masachika Takahashi opened Ten Masa, a sushi restaurant still going strong.
Hang Up
By the late 1970s, Walter Robson faced legal hurdles of his own — namely, a federal Grand Jury indictment for tax evasion dating back to 1965. According to public records, the IRS was tipped off by “a young woman who stated that she was engaged to Robson in 1967, reported that he might be guilty of income tax evasion.”
After The Phone Booth looked into the sky one final time, former neighbor and business partner H.E. Roddewig became a real estate broker, and opened Gourmet Wines in Westwood and Marina del Rey.
Harold Eugene Roddewig passed away in 2016 at the age of 84.
The former site of the Phone Booth in West Hollywood was razed in 1979, making way for a new shopping center. Designed by John Siebel Associates of Beverly Hills, the two-level structure with skylight was developed by Margaret Alkana, principal tenant and owner of Leo’s Flower Shop.
Other tenants included: The Record Connection, The New York Lobster Exchange, and The Original Minute Tan.
Perhaps best of all, the site was soon marked for death; Steven Seagal opened his first dojo on the premises there in 1985.
“Anybody seen Richie?!”
