by Chris R.
I don't really like drinking. There, I said it.For those of you still reading, I go to bars for two reasons: either to A) watch a sporting event or B) to dance. I was hosting a guest from DC, and I needed a place to do the latter that would neither have us standing in line for hours nor be too hipsterish/grimy...I hear music pumping from Hookah, so we decide to walk up; I then realize why I could hear the sound so clearly, as no one was inside.Woman at door: "what list are you guys on?"Me: Uh...none of 'em.Big Guy W/Secret Service Earpiece: "We can accommodate the lady, but twenty dollars for you."I was outraged--outraged, I say--and had us walk off...my gambit paid off, as the Bouncer flagged us down and let us both in for free. I didn't see much hookah apparel, spare one set behind the bar, though even when the place got crowded an hour later, I doubt anyone was wondering where da hookah at...still, the interior was nicely done in Moroccan decor, and we made our way to the dancefloor, which was along back in an enclosed patio area, complete with heaters (oh, you Angelinos--55 aint cold, it's the speed limit).Everyone was looking good, nobody was acting the fool, and even leaving at the end of the night was a breeze--I can't act for much more from a dance spot--except to play "Give It To Me", damnit...
