STANDING IN LINE is an unpleasant reality of going out anywhere in L.A. We don’t dwell on it, but we’ll spend hours standing around on the street in our hoochie-best waiting for some chump to give us permission to enter. They are the static moments we try to skip, that purgatorial buffer between going out and getting in. In these serials, we present the unorganized fragments of strangers’ conversations– it may seem like a pastiche portrait of strangers in a liminal nether-space, or maybe just a bunch of noise. Hopefully it’s better than standing in line.
Outside the Edison
–Another one!? Jesus! If I see another mustache in this crowd I’m gonna…
–Is there a dress code here? I heard there was a dress code.
–I read this article in Mother Jones about that!
–Trust me, you’re gonna love this place. It’s super badass because the owners totally value a comfortable and cool experience inside. You’re not pressed up against every other smelly…
–At least everybody here smells nice. And as far as ‘staches go…
–Thank God that Art Walk crowd isn’t out tonight. It gets so congested with all those artsy-DJ-Downtown-types.
–Bourbon?
–It’s, like, retro.
–…those sweaty kids outside the Smell.
–Don’t tell me you would order a whiskey sour at a place like this.
–…worn dress shoes tonight? I’m never quite sure how dress codes work in L.A.
–No self-respecting whiskey drinker would put sours in a good…
–No, no. It was in Vanity Fair, I think.
–Isn’t Occupy L.A. over?
–This isn’t some college bar where you look for the drunkest sorority girl…
–…retro-fitted. The inside is an old power plant.
–I usually just read Vice.
–It’s discriminating.
–This still seems like a kinda long line.
–Is that Michael Fassbender?
–I’ve been on a wicked bender.
–What have I been reading?
–Whiskey?
–This is totally, like, the epicenter of the whole Downtown renaissance.
–…the new Murikami novel. QB84, right? My friend has been racing through it to write a review for…
–I’d recommend a filtered bourbon first, like Black Label.
–I’m totally for their cause– I just don’t want to sleep in a park. If I could just, like, phone it in a few times a week I would be more than happy to occupy some cyberspace.
–Woof! Check out that dog.
–1Q84? You mean 1Q84. Yeah, it’s like a play off of 1984 in Japanese or something.
–It’s a pretty short line tonight. You should see it when James Franco comes. Obnoxious.
–This isn’t some dive bar were you dance with frustrated drunk cougars…
–Right. I can’t remember the name of the book of his that I did read.
–…guys going to the Shepard Fairey after party?
–I’m surprised that stray bitch hasn’t been put down by order of the state yet.
–… the one with all the time and space travel. The main guy’s always ironing and making pasta…
–It’s an old power plant, isn’t it?
–The difference between whiskey and bourbon…
–We’re almost in. Looks like a good crowd tonight.
–Expect ten to twelve dollars for a good bourbon here, but it’s better than getting some watered down well drink for fifteen…
–The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. I love that book.
–You know, you’re not nearly as funny as you think you are.
–That wasn’t him? Are you sure?
–Dress code? What do you mean I can’t come in with these shoes?!