(Flickr pic by rantfoil.)
The scene: Wednesday night at Eagle Rock's The Chalet, which I love because of its strong pours and its kitschy ski chalet decor. But mostly the strong pours.
The player: Some random guy, who'd clearly already taken advantage of several strong Chalet pours, tells the bartender to turn down the jukebox. He has something to say -- and I'm hoping it ends with, "free round for everyone!"
He tells us it's a big night. "Six years ago, I came to Los Angeles to pursue a career as a filmmaker."
OK, this could be good. Free drinks: Imminent.
"I had high hopes and big dreams. Well, I'm here to tell you today that I failed."
Wait. What?
"And I'm moving back home tomorrow to Manhattan, to return to my Dominican brothers."
Wow. That speech started out so good. And ended so... well, depressing.
Especially for me. My free drinks hope had been dashed. Oh well. Good luck heading back home, Mr. Failed After Six Years in Los Angeles.
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