Bar Hopping Series-Gone Daddy Gone, Contra Vida #2, More Tatts

Its like a bad detective novel. Bad like lousy. The dick doesn't get together with  the girl at the end of the story. The case is unsolvable just like life.

I'm at Karla's. Gabriella and Leti are here but no Emily. No Emily.

I snooze. I lose. Now the girl is Gone Daddy Gone. Emily sounds like Memoria.

I jump on the Metro towards the Cave. I get off at the Highland station with a homely looking middle age girl. The smell of the Bhudda is in the air and I naturally comment, "Why does this place always smell like a medical marijuana dispensary?" Which gets a nervous laugh. Middle-age angster is from back east and just had dinner at her parent's house. I mumble something about going to church (my religion is drink and I'm going to worship at the Cave.) Middle-age angster takes my mumblings to mean I just came from church. I tell her I'm going for a drink. I tell her "just to be polite, would you like to join me?" She declines.

I meet Tony the Younger (the bouncer) and exchange greetings.  A jazz band is playing, a few of their friends are there to see them. I meet Contra Vida #2 at the bar. Contra Vida #2 and I will have no common ground in our conversation. But I still talk to her about meeting 2 mystics Friday night and my spell of bad luck. (I thought I had my car stolen.) which is not really bad luck. The bad luck is finding out I'm not impervious to alcoholic blackouts and not knowing what happened afterwards. But to Contra Vida #2 its not bad luck.

Contra Vida #2 leaves. I leave shortly after. Some guy is talking to Tony the Younger about trying to hit it with his ex-wife. I tell him, "Dude, save yourself the frustration." I jump on the bus and head towards The Black Boar.

The regulars are there. Dave The Bouncer. Brenda "Kitty" the bar keep. Adrian, San Francisco ex-pat bar fly.

 To me Brenda is a cyber punk, goth, tatted anime pixie with bubbly Joie de vivre. The closest representation would be Masamune Shirow's Seska.

Did I just over hear Brenda just broke up with her boyfriend and its over? Some barfly told Brenda the reason why he keeps coming back to the Black Boar is because of  Brenda's awesome breasts. Brenda replied, "They are pretty magical, aren't they?" I put my head down on the bar and had a laugh.

Bar Hopping Series - The Bard , A Hybrid of Roseanna Roseannadanna/Lisa Loopner/Natalie Portman

 As I walk into the Hermosillo, I notice an attentive eye from a brunette who's talking to her older friend. However, I realize I don't have enough dinero in my wallet to entertain the both of them and dismiss the possibilities. I just order the Shakespeare stout. The other dark brews I notice on the wall menu are the Sublimely Self-Righteous (American Black Ale) and the Wee Heavy (as Scotch Ale). My taste buds can't wait to taste those ladies out.

After finishing the Bard, I walk over to Johnny's. I'm having the Big Black Bear Stout. The bartender's name is Tia whose giving me the Gilda Radner character feel along with a Natalie Portman vibe. I didn't like the Natalie Portman character in Garden State. The wannabe weird and trying to be so cute girl just didn't play well with me. Tia's husband (piercing light blue/grey eyes) and all tatted up  was at the bar, he works at Honda designing their prototypes and they were going to share some chickpeas for dinner.

 

On my last train to get home, I see this other good-looking bitch. She just had puppies or so the owner tells.

Bar Hopping Series-Book Donations, Buying Drinks for Two Underage Hotties and Getting Rick Rolled

,After the disappointment at Karla's, I took the Gold Line. At the Heritage Square and Cypress Station, the two nymphets noticed me and I noticed them. I played it cool and I got off at the Highland Park station. The two nymphets saw me getting off my stop, saw me switch directions and they definitely started to follow me. I ran quickly to the book booth to make my donations. I intentionally left them behind so I could drop off the books and take a piss at Follerrio's.

By the end of the evening, these were the books that were left.

After my piss at Follerio's, I remembered they were walking on the opposite side of Figueroa. So I walked back down towards Avenue 54. The two nymphets were waiting or pretending to wait for a bus. I started to walk up Avenue 54 toward Franklin High School. The two nymphets started to follow me again.  I asked the less buxom one, "You're not going to the same place I am are you?" We started to chit chat. I learned they're still underage. "Kimberly" is 19 years old. "Nicole" didn't give her age. I don't know why, but I got a feeling they were giving me aliases instead of their real names. Nicole wore a white blouse and had prettier facial features. Kimberly was more buxom and flaunted her ampleness with a pink colored string halter top. Both wore tight fitting jeans. Nicole said when she turned 21, she would celebrate in Vegas. I learned they live around Cypress Park. There isn't much going on in Cypress Park. I tell them there are 3 bars (actually 4 bars if you count the pool hall) on York Blvd and I'm drinking at the two places I've never been. They asked why I'm doing this alone. I told because I'm a rogue male. They didn't understand what the word rogue meant. I didn't bother to explain my sensibilities for the word in terms of being an elephant who is not with the herd but likes being apart. Nor did they understand the word penitentiary as I came to describe Franklin High School. I had to simplify and say jail. Yet both were adept at getting me to buy them 2 soft drinks and a bag of chips for $5.61 at the liquor store on Avenue 54 and York. Earlier on our walk I asked for their number. Kimberly gave me the number 944-5507. I didn't bother to add it to my cell phone because I thought it was fake. I asked them for their number again thinking they might give me the real thing. 944-5507 I wrote it on my moleskin.

The lyrics that later came to my mind to describe the two nymphets is "the female of the species is more deadly than the male."

Bar Hopping Series-Emily Where Are You?

I'm finally back in Karla's. I was hoping to see Emily. Gabriella and Leti were tending bar. Why is it I can't keep a good thing?

Say hello to my little friend. Halloween is a favorite holiday next to Christmas.

Bar Hopping Series-La Cuevita (Lesbos, Ariel, Glenda)

How did the evening end? I drove towards the bus stop and there was Glenda. I hadn't seen her in months. I asked her if she wanted a ride. She said no thanks the bus is coming. I looked in my rear view mirror and sure enough the bus was approaching. Crap! I just drove home.

Prior to this let down, I traded stories with Ariel. She was about five foots seven, pleasant facial features, thin lips with a light birthmark to the left of her forehead. She wore slightly torn blue jeans and a green tee shirt. Originally from Brentwood in Northern California, a small town with a population of 5,000. She is the younger sibling of two girls. Her mother got pregnant when she was 16 and was ostracized by the town. I commented it sounded like Nathaniel Hawthorne's Scarlett Letter. She was studying to be a surgeon (too much work and no life as a surgeon-she said) but gave it up to become a pastry chef. Her father was a chef. Her mother was a loan officer. Ariel told stories of not be able to access her apartment because a couple was having sex on the stairwell. She talked about being chased by a homeless guy into Target and getting protection from Target security employees. She talked about a guy who would jump out of bushes naked to freak people out. Some guy spilled coffee on himself when that happened. Her brother-in-law took her hiking at LA Crest, the foothills of Pasadena. Her brother-in-law also took her to a strip bar. Her brother-in-law and her sister enjoyed going to strip bars. Ariel lives in North Hollywood and works in Pasadena.

Prior to this, I hung out with 2 lesbos and a guy I mistook to be gay (embarrassingly) at La Cuevita in Highland Park. I forgot the butch lesbo's name, the femme lesbo's name is Gretchen, and the guy I mistook to be gay because he was so introverted is Ivan. Ivan is African/American with a tightly shaved mustache and beard. Gretchen is blond with hair that almost touched her shoulders and she wore a dark colored dress, originally from Nebraska. Butch-lesbo-whose-name-I-forgot wore jeans and a black t-shirt and shaped her blond hair into a pompadour. The lesbos were both lawyers. Butch-lesbo-whose-name-I-forgot represented plaintiffs against corporations. Gretchen is an advocate for foster children. Ivan is a biologist. Butch-lesbo-whose-name-I-forgot is originally from the San Fernando Valley. I chided her on inability to speak Valley because she didn't start ever word with "like". The conversation started when Butch-lesbo-whose-name-I-forgot called for a drink and I asked her whats in the drink. I forget the name of the drink but it has orange juice, cranberry juice and vodka. I combination of Screw Driver and Cape Cod. Butch-lesbo-whose-name-I-forgot impressed me because she had a encyclopedic knowledge of mixed drinks. Alchy's appreciation for another Alchy. We traded our life history based on the places we've lived. The lesbos went back east for their education, stayed in San Francisco and are now currently living in Los Angeles. I brought up the subject of how Judy Garland is associated with the gay struggle. Lesbos came back with how Dolly Parton is associated with gay struggle in the south and mid-west. I said I like Dolly a lot and how remarkable her song writing skills are especially since she had written "I Will Always Love You." The two lesbos wanted to have a kid. Gretchen said wanted a Jewish baby just to match Butch lesbo's religious/ethnic background. Butch lesbo demurred and said the Jewish sperm has gone down in quality. I was incredulous. I rhetorically argued back: "how could the Diaspora make sperm weaker?". I cited the example of the African American, Jamaicans, and the Taiwanese. I made the claim that most Taiwanese are over 6 feet because only the fittest survived in the forced march to avoid death Mao's counter culture Red Guards. I asked whether they would choose the the sperm donor to be a friend or anonymous. The thought of their 6 foot tall, blond, blue eyed friend, but they could go either way. I asked how they met. Prior to this question, we got into a discussion about meeting people on the internet. Meeting on the internet was not relevant to them. Butch-lesbo-whose-name-I-forgot said she got fed up trying to meet people on the internet in college and said she simply threw a party at her place. There she became got introduced to Gretchen but she also became involved with her law professor who was married. I jokingly called her a "home wrecker". So ever since then Gretchen and her have been a couple. They drank mixed drinks and $1.00 mescal shots. I had three stouts (see picture above).
Prior to entering La Cuevita while getting off the Gold Line at the Highland station I saw a fight between two cabrons. One cabron got the other on the ground and wailed on him.

Bar Hopping Series - Falling in Love with a Chicana Zapatista Revolutionary

 After a Corona at La Paloma, I took in the scene in at the street fair on Mariachi Plaza.

 A few people stood up and addressed the crowd. One wild eyed woman gave an impassioned speech in Spanish. I was captivated. I talked with her and learned she was demonstrating against

 the rigged Mexican presidential election. Chicana, Anti-PRI, Zapatista revolutionaries with joie de vive are so sexy.  Kinda like a female version of Subcommondante Marcos but not so hairy. She had to pass out

 her flyers so I dashed off to get some nachos and sweet cucumber juice.

  By the time I got back she was gone, all I had left was my nachos and sweet cucumber juice.

Bar Hopping Series - La Paloma (San Martin of Tours the bar's patron saint)

They actually carded me for this drink.

 Got to talking to Mexican ex-pats barflys and I asked about who the patron saint of the bar is. The woman didn't know. The older guy next to me said its San Martin. I wiki'ed the patron saint. San Martin is known for

 cutting his military cloak in half and sharing it with another pool soul. He is the patron saint against poverty, patron saint of equestrians, geese and ironically patron saint against alcoholism. I'll drink to that.