At What Cost Recreation? Part Three

Each of the last two days, I have related my account of a night of carrousing in Hollywood to mark the occasion of a friend's birthday. In the first part, I told of the movie we saw in a cemetery. Yesterday, it was the bar we went to after. Today, we shall see the thrilling conclusion!

This second bar was more to my liking. It was quieter and less crowded. Call me crazy if you will, but on the relatively rare occasion that I go to a bar, it's for the community and not the drinks. In a place like the former, talking is about impossible and even the drinking gets tough when there's no elbow room. This place did not have those problems, and was an excellent step down as we made the gradual descent to being ready for going home.

We stayed there at the second bar until closing time, and thus ended our time on Hollywood Boulevard. Still, we weren't ready for home. The birthday girl then had us over to her place within walking distance for more good times. The streets were starting to get just too hairy for my liking, and I was glad when we had gotten past the overtly concerned doorman and upstairs in the apartment. It was a very nice place, and one which I would be happy to live in myself, although I confess that I might like to be just a little bit further away from that loud and busy thoroughfare.

Wine was consumed and music heard. I found myself fending off increasingly pointed criticisms about my mustache The debate broke along gender lines. The guys liked it and the girls did not. There were demands that I shave it, and it was even believed that this end might be achieved after plying me with said wine. Luckily, I was saved when the driver of our own contingent expressed readiness to go, but I suspect the mustache debate is not over.

Finally, we headed out and got home without incident. I was deposited in front of my building at about four in the morning, at which time I began the two hour process of gearing down with recorded episodes of Letterman and Ferguson. I had long since given up on my hopes of carrying out any plans I had for Sunday which required my wakefulness before noon. It was some kind of a night.

Tomorrow: Something else!