I spent the weekend in West Hollywood, with my bff (the Will to my Grace) from college. He moved out there a few months after we graduated, and hasn’t been back since; I hadn’t seen him in almost 2 years. Seeing as we were basically inseparable during college, (we were fondly known by friends and coworkers as “Everyone’s Favorite Non-Couple”), not having him in my life has been a strange and empty thing.
The second he pulled up to the airport terminal, it was like nothing had changed. We’re both in better places (geographically and financially) than we were in college, and we’ve both mellowed and matured a bit… but that didn’t stop us from rushing to each other’s defense (in the form of trying to fight a psychotic, steroid-laden, in-denial-gay boy at a late night breakfast diner at 4 in the morning.) Some things never change…
As he lives in West Hollywood, we spent the the days and nights in gay restaurants and bars- the low-key hamburger joint we had brunch in on Sunday had a disco ball in the (unisex) bathroom and played ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” when the light was on. We went to the young cheap pre-game spot, the ridiculously expensive nightclub (with plenty of elevated dancing surfaces that guaranteed us the spotlight), the trendy cafe for a late lunch and wine, and the amazing tucked-away Mexican restaurant for “Kick-Ass Margaritas” and killer guacamole. We went up to the Griffin Observatory and pretended to like science, and actually enjoyed the view of all that is Los Angeles. We bought bottles of cheap prosecco, drove out to Venice Beach and watched the sun set over the pier, before attacking the local Italian restaurant with gusto (a tip? NEVER offer tourists and drunkards homemade chianti on the “honor system.”) We drove around town with the windows down and saw the clubs and stores I’d been seeing on television for years, all the while belting out Madonna at the top of our lungs.
I was completely relaxed, and thoroughly saturated with alcohol and good company for a healthy three day weekend. It was heaven.
Maybe I’m not such an “East-Coast” girl after all…
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Keep up the good work.