On July 2, Gabriel Iglesias took a seat inside the Queensview Steakhouse at Parkers’ Lighthouse, staring out at the harbor view he once admired only from the sidewalk.
Long before he became “Fluffy” — the first stand-up comic to sell out Dodger Stadium — Parkers’ was out of reach for a much younger Gabe.
“I used to ditch school and come to Shoreline Village with my friend. We didn’t have money, but his uncle worked at a Greek restaurant that’s no longer here, so we’d eat there and walk around,” he said, gesturing toward the window.
“Walking next to the water was free. Looking at the Queen Mary was free. We spent a lot of time right here.”
In 1993, a wealthy man who employed him would dock right outside the restaurant.
“That was the first time I opened a menu and saw lobster,” Iglesias recalled. “The first time I ever tried it was right here in this building.”
But on the day of Long Beach City Lifestyle’s interview with Iglasias, Parkers’ became the backdrop for one of the biggest surprises of his 49 years.
“I’m sorry, I never do this,” Rob Greenwald, Iglesias’ publicist said, interrupting the interview. Leaning in toward Iglesias, Greenwald held out his phone. “We just got a star.”
On the screen was a press conference announcing the Hollywood Walk of Fame Class of 2026.
British TV personality Richard Blade’s voice crackled from the phone: “We’re finally gonna get a Fluffy star!” he announced.
Iglesias stared at the screen earnestly, stunned, as if the air had been knocked out of him. “I’ve got chills,” he finally said. “This is actually happening.”
Then, a round of celebratory tequila shots came to the table, and the interview resumed.
From Shoreline Village To Hollywood
Iglesias was preparing for what he thought would be his biggest gig yet — “One Night Only” with fellow comedian Jo Koy at the 70,000-seat SoFi Stadium on March 21, 2026. Now, he’s planning his Walk of Fame ceremony.
“Honestly, no,” Iglesias says, after we asked him if this was something he had envisioned for himself. “When you look at the Walk of Fame, you see singers, producers, Broadway actors. You don’t see people who are just stand-up comics.”
For Iglesias, it was a monumental moment when he got his hands in cement at the Chinese Theater this year.
“I was the first to get in as only a comic, not an actor. Robin Williams is in there for being an actor. Kevin Hart, Eddie Murphy — they’re actors.”
Like many of his biggest influencers, Iglesias is a storyteller at his core.
Growing up, he took notes from comedians like Williams, Murphy, Billy Crystal and Paul Rodriguez.
“Paul Rodriguez was huge for me. He was the only guy on TV who looked like me,” he says. “I remember thinking, ‘How did he do it? How did he sneak in?’”
Iglesias has become one of the most recognizable comics in the world, selling out arenas, headlining Netflix specials, voicing animated characters and building an international fan base. But on this July afternoon, in the city where it all began, his origin story was less about punchlines and more about perseverance when the odds were stacked against him.
Parkers’ Lighthouse, which opened in 1983, is just over two miles away from the small corner apartment where Iglesias’ mother raised him and his five siblings. And about two blocks from Parkers’, at the foot of The Pike, was The Comedy Club, which has long been closed.
“My brother tried to sneak me in, but they weren't having it,” Iglesias says. “The coolest thing my brother ever said in life was, ‘You watch — my brother will be back.’”
Iglesias said his biggest break was the first time he got on stage.
“Day one. If I don’t get up on that stage for the first time, we’re not having this conversation. That first step is everything. If you want something, you have to take that first step — even if you fall on your face.”
Before Iglesias became a household name in comedy, he struggled to pay his bills and held two 9 to 5 jobs. But working at Robinsons-May in the credit department and selling cell phones for LA Cellular during the day and telling jokes by night eventually led to burnout.
After he was evicted from his apartment, his sister took him in, but under one condition.
“‘You can sleep on the couch. You’ve got a year,’” his sister told him.
That “year” became the launchpad for a career that has stretched across decades, arenas, and streaming platforms. Iglesias still doesn’t sit down to write his material.
“I don’t sit and write. Nothing I’ve done has ever been written down. Stuff happens, and I talk about it on stage. The more frustrating the situation, the funnier it usually is."
But Iglesias has long recorded his shows.
“If something worked, I go back, listen, and build on it.”
For Iglesias, the healing power of comedy goes both ways.
“People come up to me all the time and say, ‘I’m going through something, and thank you for the hour break. It helped,’” he said. “When people hear someone else dealing with something, they don’t feel alone. Talking things out on stage has helped me, too — especially with loss.”
When Iglesias had his hands imprinted at the Chinese Theater, a certain someone was notably missing from the event. It was the same weekend his beloved Risa, his dog of 17 years, passed away.
“Everyone kept asking, “Where’s your dog? ‘Are you going to put her paw print next to your hand?’ I was just crushed. But I talked about it. That’s how I process things.”
The Gabriel Iglesias VW Fluffy Museum
Tucked into an industrial area of Signal Hill is Fluffy’s compound, which serves as the comic’s office and merchandise headquarters. But in recent years, it has transformed into a car museum.
When we visited the compound, a rainbow of 32 vehicles, the majority of which were classic Volkswagen buses, gleamed in a row inside the massive warehouse, each one equipped with a dog bed, of course.
Iglesias said he first acquired the property to accommodate an ever-expanding Fluffy merchandise business. From shirts to Funko Pops, Iglesias has created a gamut of collectible items for his fans.
But the cars? It started with a little help from Iglesias’s friend, Jay Leno.
Years back, after helping Iglesias recover a Trans Am for his ex wife, which was her first car, Leno’s team told him they could find him whatever he wanted.
“‘Well you know, if you ever run into a Volkswagen bus — that was my first car,’” he told them. “So a couple days later, boom, a Volkswagen shows up.”
Iglesias worked to restore and fix up that 1967 bus the way he would have if he had the means the first time he owned one.
Over the course of a couple years, Iglesias says the car collecting continued, until eventually, he would fill up a section of his compound, which in 2014 officially became The Gabriel Iglesias VW Fluffy Museum. Inside, we ogled at each vehicle, all meticulously cared for. Other highlights of the space include a life-sized Iron Man suit, an original “Back to the Future” style Delorean and a VW fish tank.
The space also includes muscle cars from the 60s and 70s, modern daily drivers and more memorabilia.
His favorite car?
“You’re not gonna believe it,” he said. “A Toyota Sienna. Eighteen cupholders. Did you know that? I’ve been left on the side of the road by every single one of those classic cars.”
For Iglesias, the compound is more than a collector’s haven for himself. One day he envisions the museum as a space open to the community.
Still Long Beach At Heart
“Everything about me — my voice, my point of view, my stories — it all comes from Long Beach,” Iglesias told us.
Even with homes in Whittier and Texas, and tour dates around the world, Long Beach is still “absolutely” considered home.
“Anytime I get the chance to promote a Long Beach business, I do. Mexihanas, Los Compadres, those are my spots.”
Last year, Iglesias was given the Key to the City. But he doesn’t want to hang it up at home.
“I want to give it to a local business to display.”
He holds a special affection for the Washington neighborhood where he grew up, but he says he’s lived all over the city. Iglesias didn’t travel until his comedy career started to take off around the age of 21. Up until then, his days were mostly spent in the LBC.
I've lived anywhere and everywhere in this city, the good part of town, bad part of town — the halfway transitional part of town.”
“1497 ½ Henderson. That’s where I spent my childhood. I even took a picture of the window where my mom used to yell at me, blew it up, and put a sign underneath it that says, ‘Every story has a beginning.’”
Now, with SoFi Stadium on the horizon and a Walk of Fame star in his near future, Iglesias is thinking about how to extend the stage to others.
“I had to create my own stage,” he said. “I’d love to be able to give someone else that platform.”
That first step is everything. If you want something, you have to take that first step — even if you fall on your face.