I went to a hockey game last night with Bill, Kirstin, and Aaron. We met before the game at a bar in the Figueroa Hotel, a Moroccan-themed bar. Sounds kitchy but it works. The coolest bars in LA seem to not have signs out front and require some walking down halls and stairs, coupled with wonderings about whether you're going the right way, to reach.
Most of the seating at this bar is at table along a pool. Space heaters are set up by every other table. The easterner in me, I'm from Pennsylvania, loathes utilizing a space heater when temperatures must be in the high 50s. Once our heater had been turned on I felt much comfier!
Aaron and Kirstin joined Bill and I once we had been sitting by the pool for 15 minutes or so. They almost always get to the place we are meeting after us, a trademark I am beginning to grow familiar with. Talk turned to the bar's scenery once they had joined us.
"It's like an entire ecosystem," I said, "I've seen at least five birds while sitting here."
"There's a lemon tree over the table," said Kirstin.
Alas there was a lemon tree, so groovy! Someone must be using them. I refrained from taking any, it seemed un-classy, apparently this bar has held a part in numerous movies.
No comments:
Post a Comment