Almost invariably it happens - Jim and I walk home down 4th Street late at night and someone from the bridge and tunnel crowd drives down the street cautiously. They spot us, a window rolls down just enough for someone to yell out the window, "Hey, where's Bar 107?" We're both tempted to give them wrong directions even though they're about 25 feet away from the door, a guy standing at the door checking ID, a big backlit sign, and a crowd of smokers taking a ciggie break.
Because my parents raised me to be polite (for the most part), I give directions, "Yeah, just go down this street about 24, maybe 25 feet and it's on your left side, right above that sign." BTW, no on has ever said "thank you".
Actually, I'll them whatever they want to know as long as they don't complain that 1) it's dirty and smelly, 2) that the homeless always hit them up for change, and 3) that there's no parking (even though there's plenty of street parking and a huge lot a half block away). I mean, for chrissake, you're in downtown Los Angeles, not the freakin' Promenade.
The other night around 11:30pm, Jim and I were walking home down 4th Street, as we always do, when a group of scenesters walk towards us. Just as they passed by, one guy says to his group, "Let's just go back to the westside."
Yes, please do go back. Because the westside is magical. Maybe you and your Expedition or Escalade can find TV parking or you'll cough up $20 for valet. And you'll only get hit up for change by stranded couple who "just ran out of gas and need to get home to the Valley" rather than a crackhead, and everyone's farts smell like oranges.
losanjealous recently reviewed Bar 107 and I couldn't help but tell them what I thought of the place.