I have a question for you: why do all of the hott, intriguing women of LA have boyfriends?

I think I just answered my own question. sigh

The last few nights have been late ones.

Thursday was pool at Hollywood Billiards followed by music and, err, libations at Kruang Tedd and Jumbo’s Clown Room next door. I succeeded in making an ass of myself hitting on the house-band singer. My night ended at 3 and my day started at 7. Generally not sleeping very much has its advantages.

Friday was a bit more low-key, celebrating a friend’s birthday at a Thai restaurant (I’m sensing a theme), and telling my friends why they should all visit China as soon as possible… especially the single and amoral ones. We neglected to go go-kart racing due to weather and instead played Trivial Pursuit; which, I’m sure you’ll agree, is exceedingly dorky. There’s something about sitting around and interacting with your friends… your really good friends, though, that is irreplaceable. That night ended merely at 1.

Last night was Kruang Tedd, again, as by then I’d fallen in love with the aforementioned singer. The jazz was really good last night, thanks mostly to my friend the sax player, and I’ll definitely be back. I bailed out at midnight when things got a little weird… and met a friend at Star Shoes down the street. I started out standing in the ugly-people’s line, but my not ugly friend was thankfully able to vouch for me. Here’s the thing about Star Shoes: Star Shoes is dark. So who knows what the hell you’re talking to. It was fun, though, and at least I got to dance. Yes, I’m one of those guys. Mostly because I just don’t care.

Anyway, that night capped off with splitting a hot dog with my girl (space, space) friend from a street vendor on Hollywood Blvd. at 2 in the morning, while walking by a club-goer puking on his shoes. I mean, you just can’t have a night better than that, right?