Absinthe Makes the Tart Grow Fonder

EDISON, Downtown
Friday, 10:00pm-1:00am

We drove through the sketchy downtown area to the side alley where this hip lounge was located, beware of the homeless. We didn't feel like driving around the block for the umpteenth time in order to find a parking garage, so we broke our cardinal rule and opted for valet. We had strategized that if we arrived before 10:30pm we would just miss the line and luckily were right. The line can be a mood kill so do as we say and try to make it around 10:00pm.

We entered into the massive space which offered something at every corner, from the shadow puppets and black and white silent films to the brick walls and boiler tops. Waitresses toting fairy wings and bohemianesk glowing potion bottles wheeled shot carts around the room. The bouncers did a good job of keeping out the undesirables and maintaining a good sized crowd without allowing the room to become uncomfortably full. Though most patrons dress business/classy casual (no flip flops or jerseys... there is a dress code... seriously... check out the website) they are encouraged to wear their 1920s flapper gear.

Tip: If you're sporting a dress be sure to wear some undies and make em cute. The pervs lurking below the staircase always enjoy a free show... and do you really want your ass on youtube?

Taking a few laps around the bar is highly recommended, not just to check out the man selection but also to take in the ambiance. But if we must mention the boys, we'd have to say... late 20s and up, well dressed, and put together. The down side of this location is it is hard to tell who you are really getting. Are they truly the clean cut men that they portray or are the secretly frat boys in disguise, forced to adhere to the strict clothing requirements?

We wouldn't exactly call this a pick up spot. People go to Edison more for the feel and less for the action. The environment is quite stunning and always a favorite to bring visiting friends and LA newbies when looking to impress. The lounge somehow leaves a good taste in your mouth though one can't honestly mark it in the books as a sure fire crazy night out.

The beer selection is shitty, but the mixed drinks are delicious and service is snappy. Prices for a beverage can run a little high, though not too bad for LA, and just how we like em ... big, strong, and if you have more than one... you may be a little sore the next day. Beware, a few of those bad boys can knock you on your ass.

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Location: 10/20
Its downtown- what can we say. Its not close to anything else, the neighborhood is sketchy and parking is crappy.


Atmosphere: 19/20
What this place lacks in location it more then makes up for in ambiance. Beautiful setting, beautiful people (we think- its kinda dark), fun theme. If you wanna see a bar with personality done the right way this is the spot. Everything from the workers uniforms to the lighting in the bathroom fits the style without being over done and cheesy.

Sevice: 17/20
The bartenders are quick and the waitresess are efficient without being pushy. The shot girls are fun to watch and lend to the atmosphere without trying to upsell you.

Drinks: 17/20
Like we said before the beer list sucks but the mixed drinks are better then most. They have a lot of specialty drinks and the bartenders are stingy with the booze.

Price: 13/20
Drinks are a little much but not horrible for a nice lounge in downtown LA. Valet is $9.

Random +1 very informative website. Check it out- it lists all of the events, entertainment and dates that they are closed for private events.

Total: 77%

Remember Santa Monica Nights*

SOUTH, Santa Monica

Thursday, 8:00-11:00pm

We drove by the sports bar multiple times, unable to find the building due to the very modest sign located below the distracting overhang covered in neon. Look for the giant "Jerry's Liquors" sign, the bar is immediately after on your left if you are coming from the west. We were able to easily access street parking and proceeded to the entrance. Try to arrive before 10:30pm or you may run into a line.

As early as 8:00pm their wasn't an open seat in the house, which is nothing compared to the occupancy level on a game night. Despite the crowd, we were easily able to sift through and get to the bar where we were immediately won over by the cheap, yet delicious Blue Moon on tap.

Tip: You will find a slice of orange hidden below the thin head of foam, they didn't forget it, just like to psych you out.

After a few laps around the room the only open tables that we saw were on the outside patio and who wants to sit in a cloud of smoke? We decided it best to awkwardly hover near the bar and wait for a stool to open.

Luckily we didn't have to wait long because a friendly man, with no ulterior motives or agenda of any kinda, approached and offered us his table since he and his friend were just about to leave. Sneaky men... instead of leaving they proceeded to buy another round (for themselves) and chat us up for the next twenty minutes using such fascinating topics as which celebrities we look like. Apparently, if Halle Berry and Lucille Ball were able to miraculously spawn a 20-something baby girl... she would be Lane.

Once reminded that they had planned to leave the bar, thus relinquishing their table, they tried to persuade us to follow along to a karaoke place down the street. Free drinks were offered up as bait, however, after much persistence, they were forced to pull out the big guns... Celine Dion. Tempting as it would be to watch a grown man publicly humiliate himself while belting "My Heart Will Go On" to a crowded room, we had to decline because... to be quite honest... these guys were losers.

Note: We have since realized that the "we were just leaving" method is a classic pickup strategy often used on dimwitted females and one might think, "Lame, that never works." However, we seem to be the idiots keeping the tactic alive and therefore promise to try to restrain ourselves if ever again propositioned... unless the guys are cute... or we really need a table.

Once alone we scoped the room to see what South had to offer in the man department. The guys here are primarily in their twenties and look like they just came from a frat house. You will see a lot of polos, sports team t-shirts and a large number of baseball caps. Most men seem to be out for "guys night" and stick to the group of friends that they walked in with.

First rule of South: Don't leave your table.

Second rule of South: Don't leave your table.

Third rule of South: Don't talk to anyone. They may try to steal your table. Trust no one!

Dilemma of the night... sit in the corner, at a table, or make an attempt to socialize and forfeit seats to the awaiting vultures? For research purposes we decided to break all aforementioned South rules and abandon our chairs in order to interact with the other bar goers.

What better way to do so in a sports bar then by playing pool? Under the usual circumstances, this is a sure-fire way to strike up a conversation with the surrounding menfolk; however, at this bar it seems that a girl needs a blowtorch and crowbar to pry a guy away from his current debate about who's gonna make it to the final four.

We had all but given up on the place when a couple fellas invited us to join them at their table. (Note: This is different from being offered said table. We did realize that we would be sharing the space with them and listening to their attempts at witty banter.) Their "winning" discussion topics ranged from whether or not one is to eat the rind encasing brie cheese to their ingenious plan to invent a salty peanut toothpaste that can be washed down with a refreshing pint of ale... who needs minty breath in the morning?

Our delightful little chat came to an end when a man sporting a 70's porn mustache walk by. Penny couldn't help but mention that no man should ever be permitted to don a mustache... of course with the exception of Tom Selleck. It was at this precise moment that the future inventor of salty peanut toothpaste bolted. We were stunned. He literally turned without a word or giving a hint of reason and sprinted from the bar. Perhaps he wasn't a big fan of the stache or found Mr. Selleck to be particularly offensive, but whatever the explanation we decided to take his lead and extricate ourselves from the rather interesting patrons found at South.

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Location: 18/20

Street parking is readily available. The area is safe enough to walk in a small group and though we haven't checked them out we hear there are other good bars within walking distance.

Atmosphere: 14/20

Its a sports bar... lots of TV but most of them are playing the same thing. Pretty good sing along music and while there is no dance floor you are always welcome to make your own among the tables. Its full (to overfull) most nights but you are better off coming with your own big group since everyone gives off a very cliquey vibe. Its a pretty good space for a birthday party with a large main room and a side area that can be reserved.

Service: 15/20

Bar service is fast and friendly. Table service inside is nearly none existent though outside it is as good as any other sports bar.

Drinks: 15/20

They have close to ten beers on tap and even more in bottles. There is a full liquor selection, but the mixed drinks tend to be pretty weak. There are a few wines to choose from, but that's not really what they're about.

Price: 16/20

Happy hour... amazing! Regularly beer is still a good deal but mixed drinks are really overpriced for what they're pouring. Btw... One dollar grilled cheese and chips during happy hour!

Random: -1

Sign is virtually invisible!

Total: 77%

Penny Lane

*This weeks quote was brought to you by an amazing artist. Two words... David Hasselhoff. Two more... chest hair.

The world is filled with pimps and hoes, we'll just talk about those I knows.

KRESS, Hollywood

Saturday, 10:30pm-2:00am

We circled the area for about 20 minutes in search of the ever elusive parking space in an attempt to avoid valet. Just when we were about to give in, we found a spot on Hollywood Boulevard.

Once we arrived at the club, we proceeded to the rear entrance (there is a front entrance, but no one cool uses it) where we encountered the cluster-fuck of bar-goers who looked as if they were on their way to a pimps and hoes theme party. If you thought your dress was a little risque ... you got nothing on these ladies.

There was no line, just an elbows out fight to make it to the gate and screech at the doorman that you are indeed on the list. Please make sure that you are at the correct rear entrance, there are in fact two and the doormen do not take kindly to playing tour guide.

Note: Make sure that you are on a list, otherwise you will not be entering (unless you have made a table reservation). Once on the list, please follow your promoter along with his posse of twenty-something girls and be sure not to fall back because "no man left behind" does not apply to this crew.

We entered the elevators and rose to the rooftop bar where we were introduced to Michael Viscuso's gaudy attempt at a tropical Eden filled with palm trees, circular couches, and shot girls in sequined bikinis.

We made our way somewhat easily through the busy, yet not too overcrowded room to the bar area where we ordered two very small and expensive vodka tonics. We then took in the ambiance, the beautiful view, and proceeded to make a few laps around the floor in order to check out the merchandise.

We soon realized why there was such a mob at the door. The appeal of this club was not so much the scene, but the scenery ie. the men. The exclusivity of the venue was able to effectively eliminate all or most ugos and nobodies of the male persuasion. Age ranged from 20s to mid thirties with your occasional fifty-year old midlife crisis thrown in for good measure. The majority of the men were well put together, relatively intelligent, and fairly conversational.

Kress offers a collection of men who are either "in the business" or give the feeling of being in the entertainment industry. There is an air of privilege and most guys seem to think that making a pass through the velvet ropes has initiated them into the "in crowd", the uniform consisting of a designer t-shirt with blazer and Italian loafers. The fellas are fit to socialize and while the girls can be a bit bitchy, most guys are out to have a good time.

Warning: This is not the average encounter that a female may have on a given night, but beware ... he is out there. (As told by Penny.)

While waiting for Lane to pay her tab, I became the prime target for one very lonely man attempting to get his fix at the end of the night. Mr. Girl Scout Lover as he shall now be referred to as, sat down next to me and so eloquently propositioned, "Hi. Wanna go home with me?" What girl could pass up a smooth line like that? Off my reaction he quickly backtracked, "You know not to do anything. Just to hang out." Really? I had to ask ... "What exactly do you have in mind? Making mac n' cheese and playing Monopoly?" Being the cliche that he was, he chose the hot rod race car and deemed me the thimble. (I would like to note that the thimble is not only lame and symbolic of "women's work", but also the piece with the largest hole in which the player inserts his finger.) From this point, he asked, "Do you *sniff, sniff while thumbing his nose*?" and though I insisted that I do not do cocaine, he proceeded to offer me some from his "very high quality" supply. I politely declined while looking for an escape from this obvious class act. He must have caught my waiver because he then attempted to recapture my attention by stating, "You're really cute. I might actually date you." However, this proposal was swiftly revoked once he found that I was only thirteen years younger than him. He then said that he planned to marry in approximately ten years at which point he intended to marry a twenty-two year old. After doing the math I realized that his ideal woman would currently be twelve and wondering through her local neighborhood selling thin mints. What a man! I was finally able to remove myself from his company by taking his card and promising to call. Needless to say ... I did not.

Note: We are looking for a new discreet yet effective way to signal to our girlfriends that we are in need of assistance or to put it plainly, "Get me the hell away from this guy!" Please share any helpful tips or suggestions in our comments section.

At the end of the night, we tried to locate a couple of our friends who had gone m.i.a. We were finally able to reach them via cell and found that they had stepped outside and were then unable to return (regardless of the funky stamp received upon entry). It should be known that once a person leaves the Kress, she is not always welcome to return.

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Location: 11/20

Horrible! Valet is around $20 and there is quite a line. The side streets are unsafe to be walking around and parking on Hollywood Boulevard leaves your car open to the drunks roaming the streets. There are, however, delicious hot dog stands on every block to calm your booze filled belly. Also, if you can't make it in, there there are a number of bars and clubs in the area within walking distance.

Atmosphere: 13/20

This bar is well-lit, uncongested, and conducive to conversation. A seat is never guaranteed and there is no room to shake it on the roof, but you are able to go downstairs to the overpopulated dance floor and let the sweaty grinding ensue (not recommended while sober).

Service: 13/20

Staff tends to take their job a little too seriously. The doormen are roided up and rude as hell. Bar service is acceptable, but bottle service seems to be the way to go. Waitresses take good care of their seated clients and we never saw those drinks go empty.

Drinks: 10/20

Drinks are weak, small and heavily iced. No obvious bottled beer choices and nothing on tap. Bottle service is the focus of this bar and is the way to go if you want a stronger drink.

Price: 12/20

Valet parking costs around $20.

A small vodka tonic is $12.
Bottle service ranges from $350 - $3000, a bottle of Grey Goose being $425.

No cover

Celebrity Sighting: +1

Rex Lee (Lloyd from Entourage)

Random: +1

Networking opportunities

Total: 61%

Penny Lane

Pass me a bottle, Mr. Jones.

JONES, West Hollywood

Saturday, 10:00pm-2:00am

We drove to Jones and were happy to find that street parking was available on Formosa. Not to brag or anything, but we got right in, no waiting necessary (there was no line) and the door man showed no signs of the commonly encountered power trip/god complex.

Upon entering the first room immediately to the left, we realized why there was no line outside ... there was no one here.

Moving into the main room we discovered a massive concentration of people squeezed in to the bar area. Being the sheep that we are, we joined the herd and fought our way to the drinking trough.

Here, Lane attempted to order her usual Blue Moon, however, due to the limited beer selection she was forced to choose from a more common list the likes of Amstel, Stella, and Guiness (nothing on tap) while Penny received one of the weakest gin and tonics ever to be served in the history of Tanqueray ... or tonic. But never fear, for her second drink (poured by the male bartender) more then made up for it.

Now the big decision of the night ... return to the bizarrely desolate room that seemed to be reserved for the antisocial, non-followers or stick to the main watering hole where drinks are easily accessible? I think we've established that we pretty much follow the booze. Now where to sit? Hmmm... wait it out for a bar stool or sit in the more communal and currently available banquette? Banquette it is!

We quickly realized why the stool was such a popular choice. While on the bench, one is certainly more apt to converse with her neighbors, however, due to the low seating, bench residents must also enjoy the close ass to face proximity from the less fortunate standing patrons. (Less fortunate is debatable, though one is almost sure to chat it up with the complete stranger seated at her side.)

Which brings us to the highlight of the evening... the men. The scene around the bar is a blend of indie hipsters and LA newcomers. We personally guarantee, that you will find at least one fedora or newsboy cap in the mix. We're not sure if a mass memo was sent out to the greater WeHo area, but these boys didn't miss it. We would also like to point out that our banquette position allowed for the perfect angle to view the skinny jean phenomena that seems to be raging within the male population these days, going hand-in-hand with an excessive use of hair product (to put it lightly). The ages ranged from mid-twenties to thirties though I'm not sure that we can say the same for their maturity level.

Helpful tip: If you are ever at a loss for a good topic to strike up a conversation, be sure to hit up the restroom where the walls are spattered with interesting pictures of half-naked men and women who seem to very much be enjoying their drunken follies.

We exited the ladies' room only to have a little rendezvous with the boys next door as they vacated their own bathroom and inquired about the lovely "artwork" within. They were somewhat over-excited to discover that we in fact did have similar wallpaper, proudly displaying boobs and booties.

On our return from the bathroom, we passed several dining tables. (Did we mention that is this is actually a restaurant?) While the food smelled amazing and the pizza fresh, the high probability of an elbow to the face deterred us from taking a booth, not to mention the constant fear of being sat on by one of the many hovering patrons.

By our rantings, one might suspect that we did not like Jones, however, we did stay a total of four hours. This bar offers a good social scene that is not too cliquey or over pretentious. Jeans and a nice shirt are acceptable, but all-in-all, mellow attire works just as well a suit or fancy dress. Most people are open to conversation and you are very rarely left sitting alone and thinking, "Why am I here?" (That is unless you're located in the oddly barren room by the entrance.)

Confession: Since this visit we have frequented Jones a number of occasions. During our last outing, we stumbled across a third room. This room contains a second bar and like the first room, it too is sparsely populated. The staff tried to persuade us to utilize the space, however, we found it to be too awkward with so few occupants and retreated to the main area ... What can we say, we like a packed house.

On our way to the exit, Penny almost knocked herself unconscious when she tired to exit through the "door" located directly ahead. Please note that this is a wall and that the real door is accessible to your left. This knowledge should save you from public embarrassment as well as being mocked by both your friends and the door man.

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Location: 18/20

There is valet, however, we have no idea how much it costs because we've always been able to find street parking. The bar is in a safe area, easily located, and not overly congested.

Atmosphere: 15/20

The bar allows for easy conversation, the people are very friendly, and relatively non-bitchy. The mix of men leaves some to be desired and the main room is usually quite crowded, however, the space isn't too dark or too loud (completely different from the club scene).

Service: 14/20

It can be difficult to get a drink and the pour (alcohol level of the drinks) is inconsistent. We have yet to eat at the restaurant, however, you have to give it to the waiters for successfully sifting through the masses.

Drinks: 15/20

The beer selection is very basic and nothing is offered on tap, however, they do have a wide variety of hard alcohols and mixed drinks.

Price: 15/20

Drinks are fairly reasonable by LA standards. $6.00 for most beers and mixed drinks range from $8.00-$10.00. This may seem steep for all you LA newbies, but considering that this is by no means a dive-bar, we consider it to be quite acceptable. Did we mention ... no cover!

Celebrity Sighting: +2

Justin Timberlake & Jessica Biel

Random: -1

No website available

Total: 78%

Penny Lane

Welcome to Hollywood. What's your dream?

FADE IN
EXT. ROOFTOP CLUB

Two twenty-something WOMEN are walking through a crowded bar area when one is slyly poked by a LONE MALE dawning chin-length, shaggy hair and a velvet blazer, complete with a decorative silken scarf. Confused by the awkward gesture, she assumes that she's bumped him.

WOMAN I
Excuse me.

(Poke.)

LONE MALE
Come here often?

WOMAN I
I'm sorry, but did you just poke me?

LONE MALE
You two don't look like you're from LA.

WOMAN I
Really?

LONE MALE
It's a good thing.

WOMAN II
Why is that?

LONE MALE
You girls have a pretty chill vibe, not all jaded and sexed up.

(Two women smile and nod while looking for the opportunity to escape.)

LONE MALE
Not much for conversation are you?

WOMAN II
Well, you've given us so much to work with. Poke.

(Enter FRIEND of the LONE MALE.)

FRIEND
Hi.

WOMAN I
Hi.

(FRIEND points to WOMAN II.)

FRIEND
You look like my ex-girlfriend.

WOMAN II
Do I?

FRIEND
Ya, except she was a model.

WOMAN I
We have to get back to our friends.

LONE MALE
That's cool. I get it. I understand girl code.

(Throughout the course of the night, the LONE MALE continues to seek out and poke WOMAN I & II a total of five times.)

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Note: The story that you have just read is not a work of fiction. This actually happened ... to us ... and we're sure that most of you have had a very similar encounter.

We go out every weekend as well as many week nights and though it may seem like we're just a couple of lushes who are badly in need of a night in, we are merely two single girls looking for a good time ... in the non-prostitute sense!

We have often discussed the time wasted at mediocre bars with a pathetic drink list and even worse male selection. We realize that there is a serious lack of information as to where a girl can go to find a good drink followed up by a guy who suits your style (and preferably, can carry on a conversation without resorting to a recycled pick-up line dating back to the 1970s ... unless you're into that sort of thing).

We have decided to offer up our services as pseudo-test dummies in order to fill this informational void.

To save the men and ourselves from public humiliation, all names have been changed, but all stories and relevant facts remain very very real. Please read and enjoy.

Penny & Lane