

“It’s closed. Let’s get out of here.”
My Israeli friend had picked me up from Woodland Hills and parked in the dimly lit back lot of a seedy hookah lounge in Canoga Park, a Los Angeles neighborhood where one doesn’t want to be caught on the wrong street at the wrong time.
These moments of frustration shattered trust in government and reignited a core American belief: Those in power should not live by a different set of rules than the people they govern.
It was June 2020. “Two weeks to flatten the curve” had overstayed its welcome by three months, and my friend was one of many Angelenos who refused to accept that empty streets, boarded-up businesses, and “parking lot hangouts” were the “new normal.” We were both in need of a hit of normalcy, and he said he knew a place.
“Just wait,” he assured me.
I was skeptical. Restaurants didn’t have the luxury of attempting to accommodate California’s stringent social distancing standards like Target, Walmart, and other big-name “essential” businesses. Opening their doors was illegal — and had been for months.
After we knocked on the side door, an enormous Lebanese bouncer poked his furrowed brow over the threshold.
“Welcome,” he said quickly, ushering us in.
Lockdown speakeasies
Lebanese, Israelis, and Jordanians packed the place front to back as menthol- and mango-scented smoke curled toward the dimly lit ceiling. Who knew a shared frustration over California Gov. Gavin Newsom’s lockdowns could forge such peaceful relations?
“My gosh,” I thought. “This is a legit speakeasy” — and it wasn’t the only one.
Newsom’s draconian lockdown orders forged a slew of COVID-era speakeasies, welcoming customers through word of mouth, usually via Signal groups created by other Angelenos who craved a return to routine.
This evening of blissful familiarity — albeit with a Middle Eastern twist — was interrupted by a visit from the police. Their visit lasted all of 30 seconds. “Hey, guys. Someone reported you, so we had to show up. You all have a wonderful evening.”
The degree to which law enforcement enforced Newsom’s COVID restrictions varied from county to county, even within the same departments. Thankfully, the police in Canoga Park refused to force small-business owners to choose between putting food on their families’ tables and obeying Newsom’s dictates.
The price of defiance
Other neighborhoods weren’t so lucky. Novo, an Italian restaurant just 10 minutes north in Westlake Village, had to choose between remaining closed under Newsom’s indefinite restrictions or shutting down permanently due to lack of revenue. The owners risked defying the former to avoid the latter. Every day they remained open, Los Angeles County slapped them with a hefty fine — but the community rallied around them. Every night, the restaurant was packed with locals risking fines themselves to keep the business afloat — refusing to watch another small business in their community go under.
Five miles up the road from the Italian restaurant, a local pastor, Rob McCoy, was held in contempt and fined for illegally holding a church service with fewer congregants than people frequenting the Target across the freeway.
Within this context, I got my first gig as a writer — five years ago this very week — interviewing small businesses in the service industry for a local newspaper in the months following their government’s broken promise that they needed to close their doors for only “two weeks to flatten the curve.”
Some, like the owners of a small deli in Dos Vientos, tried to toe the line by serving burritos to customers in their parking lot. Others, like a cigar lounge in Thousand Oaks, became a hub for police officers who refused to enforce Newsom’s restrictions.
Regardless of their posturing during lockdown, one-third of all restaurants in Los Angeles County met the same fate: permanently closing their doors.
A double standard
Business owners — from both sides of the political aisle — already felt cheated by their government. But government officials' partisan double standard for themselves rubbed salt in the wound.
Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti joined thousands of protesters against the death of George Floyd, marching through the streets of downtown during the height of lockdown — while his administration issued crippling fines for small businesses serving their clientele.
The protests turned violent during the infamous “Summer of Love.” National Guard troops patrolled the streets at night while the rest of Los Angeles County was under strict curfew. A family-owned Indian food store in Thousand Oaks boarded up the business with plywood ahead of an imminent Black Lives Matter protest, which had been the catalyst for mass looting and millions of dollars in damages in neighboring Los Angeles suburbs. A gym in Agoura Hills reopened after BLM-affiliated rioters stormed and looted stores across Santa Monica en masse.
“Does the virus skip over the rioters?” the gym owner asked, tongue in cheek.
Despite the chaos erupting out of California’s major city centers, the most scathing image to emerge during lockdown was Gavin Newsom and California’s Democratic elite dining — maskless — at the French Laundry, one of America’s most acclaimed restaurants.
“Let them eat cake” didn’t work for the French, and it certainly didn’t work for California’s small-business owners, even longtime Democratic loyalists.
Turning point in American politics
“Two weeks to flatten the curve” became arguably the most transformative cultural moment in modern American history. Partisan lines blurred — even in deep-blue Los Angeles County — uniting people around the definitively American sentiment: What gives you the right to tell me what to do?
These moments of frustration weren’t just passing irritations. They fundamentally shattered trust in government and reignited a core American belief: Those in power should not live by a different set of rules than the people they govern.
And now, five years later, Newsom wants the country to forget he was the man behind the lockdowns. Embarking on a desperate campaign to depict himself as a moderate — likely with eyes on the White House — Newsom has never once fessed up to his failed leadership during the pandemic.
But small-business owners haven’t forgotten. The families who lost everything haven’t forgotten. And voters shouldn’t either.
If history tells us anything, it’s that those who trample on freedom once will do it again — especially if they think no one is paying attention.