They’ve got a deal for you

YOU ring up Original Mike’s, you tell the woman on the other end of the line you’re writing a story on the burgeoning Santa Ana nightspot, and you can practically hear the smile crack across her face. “Oh, yes!” she coos. “It’s a place where dreams are made!”

OK. Then you check the number again to make sure you haven’t mistakenly dialed some overenthusiastic flack.

And you have not, because the woman, Krystal Williams, speaks truth. Seems that just a couple of weeks earlier, Williams, an Original Mike’s hostess, was seating two muckety-mucks from Costa Mesa’s Opera Pacific during the lunch rush. They were in need of an Ethiopian chorus for a production of “Aida,” and a deadline was looming. Some friendly chitchat, a revelation or three, and Williams -- with a pro singing resume dating back 30 years -- soon found herself onstage at the Orange County Performing Arts Center, firing up her soprano pipes.

For Orange County lounge legend Phil Shane, who has an almost-every-Thursday-night gig at Mike’s, his commute to work is also the stuff of dreams -- just a flight of stairs, a quick scoot from the apartment he keeps above the restaurant.

The building is a story in itself, a 1919 brick-and-mortar job that for nearly 60 years housed a Buick dealership. It was closed and boarded up in the mid-’70s and sat unused for a quarter-century until local real estate mogul Mike Harrah did a complete makeover. When it reopened as Original Mike’s in 2004, it instantly became Santa Ana’s newest nightlife destination.

(Harrah -- the Mike of Original Mike’s -- is a ZZ Top-bearded, Harley-riding, famously difficult-to-interview developer who owns much of downtown Santa Ana. He’ll soon have one of his dreams fulfilled by constructing a 37-story office tower, set to be O.C.’s tallest edifice.)

This part of Santa Ana has undergone a striking revitalization in recent years, and Shane, a Mississippi native, recalls how the neighborhood used to be.

“When I first got here in 1972, there were areas I was told not to go into. But now Santa Ana’s really coming along,” he says, alluding to the influx of trendy bars, art galleries, indie theaters and restaurants.

Mike’s is a continuation of that urban vision, though the restaurant-bar-club’s decor is one that also looks back. Buick, Chevy, Ford, Caddy and Packard logo decals line the huge picture windows facing busy Main Street. There’s a monstrous outdoor brick patio where smokers congregate (and a cigar humidor for anyone who left their nicotine fix at home). The interior resembles a more spacious TGI Friday’s -- part kitschy curio shop, part sports bar, with plasma TVs competing for attention with antique chandeliers and full-size classic cars in what was once the dealership’s showroom.

One of the massive bars has saddles for stools. Palm tree lights illuminate the dining tables. Vintage black-and-white photos of 19th century Santa Ana line the walls. Overhead is a ceiling menagerie, with taxidermic animals and a deer head with a stogie in its mouth. There are fireplaces, motorcycles and an aura of controlled chaos, even on the dinner menu, which unashamedly boasts Big Mike’s Fried Egg Sandwich -- an egg with a half-pound burger patty, chili con carne, mayo and cheese crammed between toasted sourdough.

“You can’t really find anything like this anymore,” says Mike’s manager, Ryan Rideau. “We’re one of the few places where we can do anything we want, and we will -- anything for anybody.”

DURING the day, Mike’s is a mix of older blue-collar laborers and white-collar government employees from the Santa Ana Civic Center up the street. The scene changes at sundown as the throng gets peppered with younger folks who frequent nearby art galleries and alcohol-starved musicians killing time before acoustic sets at the Gypsy Den a couple of blocks away.

This particular night, though, is owned by Shane. His cult is here, so it’s a bit of an older crowd, which happens when you’ve been playing O.C. as long as he has. The karaoke machine is always nearby, so Shane starts his set with “Pretty Woman,” and his legion goes batty. Looking like a cross-breeding of Elvis and Neil Diamond, Shane busts plenty of both -- some “Teddy Bear” and “Suspicious Minds,” some “Sweet Caroline” (BOM-bom-bom!) and “America.” He changes his sequined jackets often, going from a glittery silver number for “Great Balls of Fire” to a black ensemble for the Diamond medley, not even noticing that his top shirt buttons have come undone -- unless he meant for that to happen, which he probably did.

Shane replicates Tom Jones’ butt wiggle for “Delilah,” rocks an acoustic guitar for “Ring of Fire,” does the occasional original (like “Love on the Internet,” penned by his wife, Michlene), and makes birthday dedications in his Southern drawl, as if they were the most important tasks on the planet. In front of him, a good-sized throng dances. Shane’s a true superstar up there -- just another evening living out dreams at Original Mike’s.

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Original Mike’s

Where: 100 S. Main St., Santa Ana

When: 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. Sundays and Mondays; 11 a.m. to midnight Tuesdays through Saturdays

Price: Free most nights

Info: (714) 550-7764; www.originalmikes.com