The Little Joy stole from me two nights but Friday night was way too hot to stand amonst the bike messengers wearing dog collars. I sat on the sidewalk out front with Kim and Tim while two cops in a cop cruiser tried to provoke any possible drunken behavior out of me by shining their cop cruiser light on me. Move along little coppies, move along.

My evening's drinks had long since been consumed at a bar called The Casting Office which teeters embarassingly on the edge of Hollywood and Studio City, read: The Valley. It was an office gathering that rendered me, and only me, unable to man a vehicle. The receptionist who is smaller than me by probably 30lbs and a solid 5 inches was even able to leave in her own vehicle, taking with her the taxi vouchers. Evidently, I had given off some false essence of sobriety.

Quickly I began slurring into my cell phone to anyone I knew who would be in a 10 mile radius. I went to dial Daniel but realized he is gone now and started to cry. Crying in front of a bar situated in a strip mall is not the proudest moment I'll ever spend so I willed my eyes dry and set about making more calls for help.

Out of nowhere Tim arrived laughing at my condition which, by the by, was only brought about by two vodker soders and one tequila shot...I think. When you are a person who eats yogurt and berries every day for lunch I guess you are also a person who can't manage three drinks. We went somewhere in Echo Park, his boss's house? I might have stayed in the car and then we went somewhere else, a parking garage near the Borders in Hollywood? From there we walked to the Henry Fonda where Man Man was playing. I was introduced for the third or fourth time to the roommate of a boy I dated two years ago. He squinted like he remembered me but he is a rock star now so I doubt it matters.

We scuttered out of Man Man promptly after their set with plans to attend the sold out Cold War Kids show at the Echo. Our plans must have surely involved osmosis because that show was as sold out as the day is long. After tripping on an odd tree stump sticking through the middle of the sidewalk and feeling that much more pathetic, Tim carried me on his shoulder toward the Brite Spot but KH called us up the street to El Compadre for margaritas. I planned only to stuff myself with enchiladas and water, which I did do. From there, Little Joy, from there The Casting Office to retrieve my car. From there home. Sleep.

The following night's plans started ambitiously but evolved into a pleasureable gathering in my living room, a gathering at The Little Joy and a gathering at RP's. I would not sleep until the sun rose that following morning.

Father's Day makes me sentimental.

I sit here wondering about something. Wondering if I will ever know the answer. Wondering what else I can do. I am unsatisfied with the conclusion that nothing else can be done but I know it is the truth.

18 June 2006 - 11:00 PM

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