So tonight was fun.

I got the call around 7:30ish and went down to USC to get her. Immediately on the tail of that call was Nick, calling me for the monthly update on my life. I managed to not only get equipped, but I actually managed to drive all the way down there with a few twists and turns without getting myself killed.

I got there first, but I didn't have to wait long, so I tossed the newly twenty-one sk8 punk over my shoulder and we left in short order.

First stop was to get some cloves.

The 7-11 on Virgil/Santa Monica didn't have any. Neither did the Vons up a few blocks on Sunset, so I ended up hitting old Bogies on Hyperion where success was had. Took a moment to puff a bit, there, before stopping by my place to heist some of her clothes that I've been storing.

While there, I got a ring from Nobody on the D-man's phone. They were up for stuff. We, coincidentally, were getting ready to do stuff. She wanted alcohol. Nobody wanted naked women. Artfully, the concepts fused and we found ourselves at Jumbo's Clown Room.

I was lazy and so paid the $3 to park. We went in, hung out, dug the chicks and the music. The drinks game in these very small glasses, which I found kinda annoying, but I guess I'm spoiled from the the Kitty, where I don't feel like I'm getting ripped off. She had three rum&cokes, I just chilled. I suspect Nobody was consuming something that involved either Kaluha, Bailey's or both. D-Man was chuggin' the Red Bull straight.

Some of the chicks were pretty hot.

I believe our favorites were Industrial Chick and Retro Chick, who danced in that order. Some of the rest were pretty decent, too, but when it comes to strippers, dance style and music selection are important. Where I come from, any naked bitch can get you hard; performers get tips.

Anyway, after a couple smoke breaks, we decided to let our companions have the chicks to themselves. She told me she craved Del Taco since they don't have it in SF. I drove to Highland.

The Santa Monica/Highland Del Taco is one of the prime grubbing spots for the Hollywood goths after clubbing. At least, it is for the one's who don't intend to get out of the cars. The social ones used to hit the Denny's on Gower back when the Hollywood Athletic Club hosted Nocturne; these days I don't know what they do with themselves.

So I know it fairly well, though it's been long enough that I didn't quite recall where the parking lot entrances were put. Still, that part of the evening went without incident.

Now, of course, since we were out, I figured a trip to my favourite stretch of road was in order.

You know where I went.

I don't know why I never get tired of the city lights from Mulholland, but I just don't. Even if it's just the drab Valley and the Sheraton Universal, at night it all looks pretty fuckin' cool. Honestly, though, her reaction to it all is better than the view.

Unfortunately, the clock in San Dimas is always running, so eventually we had to get a wiggle on. I let a Jeep chase me down the mountain 'til I hit Highland again and made my way to the 101.

Sometimes, the merchandise is worth more than the money you pay for it.