Faced with strangeness and boredom, I opted to meet with Skip, a viable selection when met with disillusionment. He was located at a moderate house party in Hancock Park, winning the early lead in random Bashing.
Skip had psychologically taken over about 40% of the party, my rough estimation after soaking in around ten minutes, and the results of his sneak attack were paying dividends.
When he’s on the mark targets stick, walking away is never a preference for them. They stay until he decides to ditch the dust.
I surveyed the scene, met some dudes in the kitchen, no other women in sight. I went outside and was greeted by the proverbial Gallery of Fools.
They follow every movement of Skip, a point in fact realized less than a year ago after equating their cause of presence directly. They enhance Bashes by raising the energy of everyone around with quick wits and banter seen only on TV. I looked around more, there weren’t any more potential leads, so I figured Plan B needed implementation or sleep. Skip had already plundered the scarce resources available, leaving behind scraps and torn limbs.
I fielded calls and chose to hit Cha Cha Lounge late, a place I needed to give a second chance. My bar crew started off with Raj and Vickie.
Vickie was busy handing out
Raiders of the Lost Ark cards, being bubbly as ever with sass.
People were kind of testy at the bar, especially those serving beverages slow, seemed to be rubbing off rotten. My favorite moment was the nearby couple engaging in a wicked bout of violence, like escaped beasts on a rampage from the zoo.
Then Lance and Gary parachuted in from a shoot in West Hills. Lance grabbed a Pabst and started pounding.
Gary tried to look tough, but he really is.
The interior scheme is interesting, and we were lucky enough to have one of the few girls out. Lance ended up getting a
Raiders of the Lost Ark card from Vickie. I'll have to ask him what he got.
The ones that baffle most are the Short-Timers, the ones you see a few times on the path, who never appear again unless in unwanted fashion. You like the reassurance knowing they’re not around, and then they are. Not sure if Cassy will qualify for the Raj hit 'n run.
She was nice enough, pretty enough, fun enough. Suffice to say, I continue to question Cha Cha Lounge in Silverlake, but grievances can be taken up on another occasion. We then woke up R.J. at Raj’s around 4 in the morning, loudly laughing and being disruptive and drunk, reminiscing of the battle just fought in dire circumstances. Right.
I contemplated 30 minutes of fun driving, but instead crashed out hard. I forgot that Book Cover Creator Vickie was handing out
Raiders of the Lost Ark cards at Cha Cha. This is from the back pocket of my jeans.
I pray it isn't prophetical in any way. My Friday morning started off with checking out the construction site that The Wolf had a hand in closing.
Venice Beach was a less crowded affair than normal, but freaks still walk around and wow.
Vendors weren’t seeing much action.
No kids crowded up by the turtles for once.
A bong salesman was hanging out having a smoke.
And tourists continued taking photos with marred Van Gogh.
After surveying the scene and boldly quaffing numerous liquids, we all hopped into a dangerously driven cab bound for Cha Cha Lounge, a place of previous crimes and misdemeanors, where accidents happen and regrets are hard to come by.
Exploring the outer reaches of the Los Feliz area are beneficial to somebody used to the Westside. The lifestyles can be contrasted sharply, but each has benefits as well as drawbacks. Sexiness is never a drawback, the main reason I relent from the sadly common norm of remaining in a bubble, never going anywhere past 2 miles. Bubbles are boring, and so are a lot of people, so I select my company carefully.
As usual, to assist with maintaining Bash balance and order, The Detonator came armed with passionate daring and Willie Nelson.
In true form that's naturally exuded, staying in style and focusing on the fray was the first and only option in play. Aside from prodigious finesse, The Detonator's art often imitates reality. Everything progressed nicely after entering Cha Cha Lounge and the evening never seemed to peak out.
But before that we briefly waited outside the bar, one that was apparently overcrowded and drawing the ire of local fire authorities, yet the line moved quickly after the once stoic doormen noticed attractive ladies in the back of the line. With that factor competing, it’s good to be part of the group. We briefly spoke to Mike Piazza who was loitering in front of us.
Mike concurred that he, as well as the 30 men in front of us, were very lucky. The line moved deceptively fast, and we were in within minutes to begin causing irreparable liver damage with cheers and laughter.
This particular evening also gave me a chance to showcase the medal I won from running in the Disneyland Half Marathon in Anaheim, a feat that many joyously complemented me on.
I was a winner that day! I was also genuinely stoked when handed red cup, a sign that the bar had been tapped on glassware, probably the result of sneaky bastards stealing while influenced by a drunken daze. Too much fun though, the kind that lingers, like the faint scent of sweet Champagne I shared with the lovely ladies before embarking in the crazy cab, it still comes across my senses. Nights like that, in retrospect, can fulfill your most beautiful dreams of magic. I prompty passed out at 5am.
Then you have to go home, or in my case, you go straight from a comfy couch and unparalleled warmth to Mo’s in Playa Del Rey. Nothing beats watching football and having the greatest taco salad in the entire world or the contagiously yummy popcorn shrimp with house sauce. Plus Mo is always there to tell the best jokes.
After a rare Raiders victory and the best fish 'n' chips ever, I happily engaged Peacock at Sports Harbour to continue some incomprehensible debauchery on an already heavenly Sunday.
It didn't take long for my boldily pains to go away.
