I'm not sure I love visiting a neighborhood where the boys have nicer legs than I do, but if you're in West Hollywood, it's bound to happen. It's impossible to concentrate on just one thing since there is so much to look at. I wonder if the rate of rear-end collisions is higher on this small strip of Santa Monica Boulevard than in other areas, what with all the rubbernecking going on. This picture totally sums up West Hollywood to me. This section of Santa Monica Boulevard, from La Cienega Boulevard to Robertson Boulevard, is known as "Boys Town" and is among the most popular gay neighborhoods in the world.
Every Sunday, the Here Lounge hosts SIZE, the longest-running, largest promotion in gay Los Angeles. According to the Here website, "For the past 6 years, SIZE has packed the boys in each afternoon and brought in DJs from around the world. SIZE is a staple of gay LA for good reason – it delivers a crowd of sexy, friendly guys every Sunday, as well as amazing DJs and surprise performances, all without a cover charge. SIZE highlights the best in local talent as well as the big-name DJs from around the country (and around the world.) Surprise (and promoted) performances happen all the time at SIZE, from vocalists to dance troupes to performance artists."
The place was packed. Boys everywhere!! There was music wafting through the air, shirtless men dancing on elevated platforms, and laughter being carried by the breeze.
We also found out (too late) that nearby is a place called Millions of Milkshakes, and it's supposedly a celebrity hotspot. If only we knew! I love milkshakes!
When I lived in California, I also lived in West Hollywood. Less than a block north of Melrose, about a mile and a half from this vibrant neighborhood. I rented a room from an old Jewish woman named Flo Berman who used to joke that West Hollywood was half gay, half Jew. The gays are easy to spot. The Jews, not so much. Although Flo fit right in - she wore silver sneakers, vibrant colors, and the wildest costume jewelry I'd ever seen.
I took Ed by the apartment where I lived. The neighborhood was much nicer than I remembered but the apartment, although surrounded by other cute buildings, was a little blah: The other thing we decided to do when we were in the area, was to check out the address my cousin Seven had given me a few years ago. He moved to California long after I had left, but I was surprised to find out that he lived in West Hollywood also - just a mile and a half from where I had been!
As far as I knew, he hadn't changed addresses, so how could we not drive by when we were so close? What a surprise it would be! We were playing out scenarios in our heads as we passed the streets approaching the address where his building would be. Should we just go up and knock? Call first? Drive by a few times? Leave a note?
Well, it turns out we didn't have to do any of that. Because THIS is where the address took us to:
When I lived in California, I also lived in West Hollywood. Less than a block north of Melrose, about a mile and a half from this vibrant neighborhood. I rented a room from an old Jewish woman named Flo Berman who used to joke that West Hollywood was half gay, half Jew. The gays are easy to spot. The Jews, not so much. Although Flo fit right in - she wore silver sneakers, vibrant colors, and the wildest costume jewelry I'd ever seen.
I took Ed by the apartment where I lived. The neighborhood was much nicer than I remembered but the apartment, although surrounded by other cute buildings, was a little blah: The other thing we decided to do when we were in the area, was to check out the address my cousin Seven had given me a few years ago. He moved to California long after I had left, but I was surprised to find out that he lived in West Hollywood also - just a mile and a half from where I had been!
As far as I knew, he hadn't changed addresses, so how could we not drive by when we were so close? What a surprise it would be! We were playing out scenarios in our heads as we passed the streets approaching the address where his building would be. Should we just go up and knock? Call first? Drive by a few times? Leave a note?
Well, it turns out we didn't have to do any of that. Because THIS is where the address took us to:
That's right!! A freakin' mailbox store. He gave me the address to a mailbox store. Who gives out an address without oh, I don't know, mentioning that it's not where they actually live?? Weird.
Now I know what it's like to be the recipient of the fake telephone number at a bar. You know, the one you tuck it away in your purse or back pocket, vowing to call when you get up the courage, and then when you do, you get a recording that the number has been disconnected or is "not in service at this time".
Good thing I didn't come bearing gifts. Ed and I would have been sitting on the steps of Mailboxes PMB drinking a bottle of wine and eating a box of pastries.
Now I know what it's like to be the recipient of the fake telephone number at a bar. You know, the one you tuck it away in your purse or back pocket, vowing to call when you get up the courage, and then when you do, you get a recording that the number has been disconnected or is "not in service at this time".
Good thing I didn't come bearing gifts. Ed and I would have been sitting on the steps of Mailboxes PMB drinking a bottle of wine and eating a box of pastries.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
1 YEAR AGO: She Needs To Wear A Bell
2 YEARS AGO: Budding
3 YEARS AGO: I Hate When He Does That
4 YEARS AGO: The Toes Of Summer Are Peeking Out
1 YEAR AGO: She Needs To Wear A Bell
2 YEARS AGO: Budding
3 YEARS AGO: I Hate When He Does That
4 YEARS AGO: The Toes Of Summer Are Peeking Out
3 comments:
I'll take the "pasty lady' from Key West any day! Glad you are having fun in the sun.
Maybe he moves around a lot and this is his "hub".
I seriously LOL'd! You are making me want to visit Hollywood again! It is such a diverse and eclectic place.
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