It Sucks to be a Straight Guy in Hollywood

My coworker and I found amazing parking around the corner from the club.  The bouncer looked at us and priced us, "the girl is free and you are $20."  Seriously?

La Vida on Saturday is disgusting.
Douchebags everywhere and girls who are over done.

I bought drinks for the ladies... because I felt naturally obligated to pay for women despite the fact that my goal wasn't to sleep with them.  Maybe I feel bad that they'll be hitting glass ceiling in their careers at some time, but they are nice people when they aren't catty.  I figured, hey, you shared your hot Cheetos with me at work... I'll buy you a patron shot.

3 Patron shots, closed my tab... $42.

Beautiful.  At least the music was amazing.  They had hip hop accompanied by a live drum player.  Straight clubs have the best music.

God, it sucks to be a straight guy.  One of the girls didn't even thank me for my ridiculous purchase.   And now what?  We dance?  I observed creepster guys do creepster things. I was used as a cock block.  These creepster guys who blow so much cash going to these places on a regular basis in hopes of getting some stupid hoe girl drunk so that they can take them home only to get blocked by the sassy gay friend.  Poor straight guys.

But I must say, the ladies looked hot.  Girls are teases, willing to accept your drinks, willing to dance with you for one song and willing to leave you the second they find their girlfriends.  Manipulative.  Not these ladies of course, but the species of women in general. Poor straight guys.

I mean, I had a good time, but fuck I was getting poorer with every minute I stayed.  Is the good music worth this?  I observed other straight guys take stabs at trying to dance with girls.  I overheard bro-dude talk... everyone had some sort of character that they were trying to play here.  Some sort of act.  The atmosphere was grimy.

No one seemed approachable.  We left and the valet was a mess.  Fights and accidents everywhere as expected.  My coworker told me that if her bf found out some guys were hitting on her he would be down there with his posse in 5 minutes and then there would be cops and yellow tape everywhere.  She was serious and told a story.

We found an amazing Thai place patronized by Thai people and with a Thai band playing. As we sat on the patio I felt like I was in Thailand.

As we enjoyed the best padthai of my life I thought to myself again: it sucks to be a straight in Hollywood.

Under the Influence in Hollywood

Through the powers of friends, I've stumbled upon two clubs in the Hollywood- space that I thought I would never set foot in.
Mr.Black (NSFW) at Bardot on Tuesday

• no cover
• free vodka from 9:30 - 10:30
• dance music with some catchy pop tag-lines thrown in

I got two drinks every time I was at the bar and winked at the bartender. I danced all night and woke up with a hangover the next day for work. Blah, free bottom shelf vodka. DJ was great.

We were a part of "young Hollywood." Where everyone dress well and thirst to be out of the house on weekday late evenings. There was a lounge area and "Mr.Black" who apparently parades around the club with his ass hanging out.




Excuse my underarm bush. (again)


I told this taco truck that they saved my life and she corrected me, "no.. you guys coming here at night saves our lives."


======

Balance at King King on Saturday.

• $10 cover with a print out before 11.
  
• House music

Fuck. But with my roommate's loving plea, "come-on TOSHI.. you'll have fun," I obliged even though house is music my hell. We were stuck in the Hollywood Saturday night traffic and paid the $10 parking to cut the stress; I was anticipating a terrible terrible night. Surprisingly, it was one of my most fun nights, but I think I can completely thank the Influences for that.

Hollywood- what a trashy place. But lots of characters strolling around like some D-list actors.

I was just sitting on the sticky rubber couches hating the noise that was coming out of the speakers when the friends wanted some air. When we came back in, the room started to spin and my feet felt light as if I was walking on balloons that won't pop. We made way to the large dancefloor and high ceiling adorned with Asian characters and red lighting.

In a split second, the repetitive noise that people were dancing ugly to transformed into sensual sounds that moved into my body. My arms lifted from my sides, my legs started to bounce, my hips spun. My eyes widened. I skipped around the club as if I knew everyone. My vision, became clearer as if I just cleaned my glasses with with microfiber. I talked to everyone I sort of knew asking random questions like, "What's your favorite Pixar movie?" When I saw folks looking bored, I would grab their arms and shout, "DANCE WITH ME" even if it was the first time I had ever spoken to them. And I started moving my limbs in planned chaos. Jimmy told me, "stay hydrated." Jae offered me me more gum. I was in euphoria.

All of a sudden someone was playing the bongos and staring at them as I felt every vibration. I was 2 feet away from the bongos and 2 seconds away from taking charge and playing them myself, but I was in control.

My house music smile apparently

2:30Am. Left the club. Went home to exchange massages. When Jimmy pressed his two thumbs down my back, I yelped as I organismed. Our designated driver had 3 gin and tonics and an AMF, so we worked out a back up. I watched Jimmy massage his own hands. I think I got 3 hours of sleep because I was having a conversation with a beat light that I plugged in while playing some sort of trance music... I closed my eyes as I tried to relax on the floor with the bean bag as my pillow and roommates spooning me. Dutch dutch dutch.