It was 9:40 p.m. They weren't even letting people in until 10, because of a private party. There was a line stretching down several hallways, down 2 flights of stairs, and then some.
But we had a plan.
Shannon had gotten us on this list. A friend of hers used to date one of the owners. They're twins - Nick and Jim Somethingorother. Their last name was really difficult to remember.
There were several of us on the list, with a plus-one apiece, totaling 6 entries. We had 8 in our group, but we were pretty sure we could get everyone in, just maybe not for free. Cover was $20 - not too bad.
We got into the long-ass line, and waited a while. Spirits were getting low. Finally, a bouncer walked by with a clipboard.
Brad: "We're on the list of Nick and Jim Somethingorother. Do we have to wait in this line?"
Bouncer: "No."
That was the most beautiful No I'd ever heard.
He walked off, then came back with some list. I had a scary moment when he was like, "You guys know Nick and Jim?" all casual-like. There was a second where I thought he was going to be like, "There they are, say 'Hello!'" Of course, we wouldn't have known Nick and Jim from Tom and Jerry. The funny thing is, all he did was locate one name on the list, and then just believed everything we said, swept us in, and charged the two people we said would make us more than six. We walked past all the people standing in the long-ass line, waiting. I think I still have bleeding wounds from the daggers those wannabe clubbers were shooting into us from their eyeballs. That's the best kind of hate.
But Shannon says getting into this club is like playing a video game - there are levels. We approached the next level, and the bouncer asked some other guy, "Right or left?" He said "Left," and I instantly knew that right was better.
There were two more lines before the entrance door - a longish one on the left, and non-existent one on the right. But left wasn't so bad. After about another 15 minutes or so, we were in in in. Or as Shawn says, "In there like swimwear."
There was a guy brandishing a metal detection wand, but he only wanded the men. Weird. They searched the women's purses, though.
The club was NICE. And fun. Great DJ - he played everything and everything. We got some drinks and wandered around. Once outside (on the "smoking patio"), we noticed a group get up from a table, so Gretchen, Shannon, Brad and Shawn slid on in. I held back, because I'd noticed "Reserved" cards everywhere and was thinking that maybe they were about to get kicked out like Puck.
I watched something very interesting. Downstairs Security Guy looked up to this balcony at this Main Security Guy who we later dubbed The Security God. They both talked into their wrist walkie-talkie microphone things for a while, until Downstairs Security Guy nodded and walked away. They were clearly discussing whether or not my group would be permitted to remain at that table, and they apparently passed. I then went over to tell the gang that they had just passed a test without even realizing it. Thank you, Nick and Jim Somethingorother!
We danced, drank, smoked and socialized. It was big fat fun. There was a fabulous view from the patio. At one point, Gretchen and I were dancing to some 80s.
Me: "Hey, Gretchen!"
Gretchen: "Yeah?"
Me: "Look at that guy over there. He's kind of cute."
Gretchen: "Ooo. You're right."
We continued dancing for a few minutes.
Gretchen: "He's just kind of hanging around. I'm going to ask him to join us."
So she did. And they started to get a little... close. So I split.
And then we lost Gretchen for about an hour. I checked the bathroom, the dance floor, the patio - everywhere. Just when I was starting to get worried, I spotted her.
Me: "Where the hell WERE you?"
Gretchen: "In VIP. Wanna go to VIP?"
Me: "Yeah, I wanna go to VIP!"
It turns out Cute Dancing Boy's name was Brady, and he had some connections. Sweet.
We all filed past the velvet rope to the secret, forbidden room. Leather couches, better art, private bar and bathrooms.
We're so fucking cool - we're all posing in front of the paintings, snapping photos. Clearly, we were not affected by the L.A. pretentiousness. Tourist much?
We stopped over at Brad's, then headed to Gretchen's for some drinking and dancing. There was some debacle with wine spilled on a carpet I didn't really pay attention to. At some point, Shannon got superdrunk, and was eventually taken home by Brad. Brad's sweet brother played us some songs, so Shawn and I renamed him DJ Al.
Finally, we all konked out. We did a little better Sunday, and woke up at 1 p.m. I insisted on immediately being reunited with my giant burrito, which I relished. We ended up dicking around until 4 p.m., when we finally made the trek to Venice Beach.
What a cool area. It's almost like a carnival, with the booths and the art and people getting massages and street performers. I really enjoyed Venice Beach. Strangely, we spent a large chunk of our time in a sunglass store, where we all acted as if we'd never seen sunglasses before. We're trying 'em on, we're taking pictures, we're buying sunglasses. Weird.
Finally, we left, and I got to experience Mo' Better Meaty Meat Burgers. If you've been with me since my last trip to L.A., you know I've been obsessed with this place - and the name of this place - since the last trip. What I really wanted was a T-Shirt (didn't have 'em), but I settled for a yummy, yummy burger.
We caught the end of the Lakers game, Shannon took us to this Russian bakery for pastries, and we relaxed, packed, and slept.
To be continued...
Only the trip home left!
