5 Days in 1,000 Words or Less
On Wednesday afternoon, Nicky drove up to Runyon Park and we went for a hike. I had never been to that park before. Showcase takes his clients' dogs there frequently for a work out. It's a park that's located at the base of the Hollywood Hills and features steep trails all the way up the canyon. We saw plenty of dogs and lots of pretty people working out. I never saw so many over the hill models sweating their asses off before.
After the hike we hung out at the apartment before dinner. I had a bad run at the online poker tables and dropped $600 inside of an hour. Thank God we had to go to dinner at Taste of India. The meal started out great but somewhere along the line, I got sick and had a rough night.
I couldn't sleep for most of Wednesday and spent the entire night on the couch ripping bingers and watching a Top Chef marathon. I eventually passed out and slept for 95 minutes before I woke up at dawn to write.
I edited several Truckin' stories and wrote two future columns to get as many in the can as I could.
On Friday, I met Joe Speaker for lunch downtown. We caught up on life and discussed his son's little league games. We both reminisced about playing little league at a time where we wore jeans and a really cheesy team t-shirt as our uniforms.
After lunch, we drove up to Zuma beach in Malibu. Nicky read the new James Frey book about LA and couldn't stop talking about all the things wrong with it like names of freeways. Since we went in late afternoon, we were able to get a glimpse at the sun set. Amazing. Sensational. Zuma is one of my favorite places to go and sit and think. I always felt that I write better in Las Vegas when I visit Red Rock Canyon. Well, the same goes for Zuma and LA.
On the way home, we stopped off at In & Out Burger. I was starving and went for a 3x3. A young black couple on a date sat next to us and got into a fight because the girl was pissed that the guy took her to In & Out.
On Saturday, I woke up early and it was almost 90 degrees. We went for breakfast at Nick's and sat outside. Our waiter joked around that it was so fuckin' hot and that he was sweating his ass off and hungover. He was definitely hustling and it was wicked hot and only going to get hotter.
After breakfast, I watched the Yankees/Mets game on mlb.tv, which came on at 10am. I wrote for a bit then played online poker in the afternoon and watched the Preakness.
On Saturday night, we headed to West Hollywood to see STS9 at the House of Blues. STS9 is a band I have been seeing for almost a decade at different places all over the country such as Florida, Texas, Colorado, New York, San Francisco, Las Vegas, and now in Hollywood. They sort of fall into the jamtronica genre... a jam band meets electronica. It's the sort of music that sounds great at 2am after your second hit of ecstasy kicks in.
We got there early and Stellas cost $7 to drink. Two DJ opened up for STS9. The boys finally took the stage and we were fairly close to the action. First set was average and they played a couple of new songs. The second set had several epic moments. Lots of wasted people as hippies and hipsters danced their asses off.
Before the concert, I hurt my shoulder trying to shut a closet door in the apartment that was stuck. By the time the show ended, it was killing me. I had to grease up with Ben Gay and pop two Xannies to fall asleep. When I woke up, my entire arm and shoulder and neck was stiff. It felt like I pitched both ends of a doubleheader.
Nicky slept in and we had a lazy Sunday. We didn't motivate to go eat breakfast until after 3pm. We went to Canter's Deli. I guess we looked like we just came from the beach because our very gay waiter asked us if that's what we did.
"The beach? We just woke up. This is breakfast!"
The waiter fucked up my order. I asked for a pastrami on a kaiser roll. He specifically said, "Kaiser is fifty cents extra. Is that OK?" I agreed and he went to place our order. Five minutes later, he returned with a pastrami on rye.
It wasn't the end of the world and I was too hungry to send the food back. I ate half the sandwich when he came over to apologize for fucking up my order. He didn't have to, but I appreciated his candor. I'm so used to horrible service in Los Angeles basically because most of the wait staff are either slackers, stoners, and thespians waiting tables while they wait for their big break. I'm just happy to get any semblance of food in LA that I automatically lower my standards of what I think is good service.
OK, but the very gay waiter kept touching me. Every time he stopped by the table, he would put his hand on my shoulder or back. Really weird.
We rushed back home so I could watch Sunday night baseball which came on at 5pm on the west coast. The Mets spanked the Yankees and it was brutal to watch. I played more online poker and lost again. My losses for the week totaled almost 1K.
Nicky went off to write and I got stuck watching the end of the Yankees game and working on Coventry and uploading photos to Flickr.