Hot Chile in the City...(Birthday Exploits, Part One)

danger in the shape of something wild
stranger, dressed in black
she's a hungry child....
I don't know where she came from
or what her game is....
~"Hot Child In the City" Nick Gilder


So okay, ya'll can take that post title one of two ways: I've been a hot chile, as in - Supa been bein' fast, or, as in - Supa's a hot child because it's been fucking hot outside.

Hmmmm. Give up?

Answer: Supa's been bein' fast AND it's been hot as hell outside. (90+ degrees in La La Land yesterday) So how's that for a delightful double entendre!! Yeah!

Man, I bullshit you not....Supa's been hot to trot and seems like the chick!can't!stop! Been doin' it big as someone would say...but let's start at the beginning, shall we?

So, okay. Back to Wednesday eve.. (the actual night of Supa's birthday, right? If ya gonna stay with the story, you gots to keep up) So, that night, my favorite power couple takes me to my spot of choice for dinner and dranks...which happened to be The Standard Hotel in Downtown City of Angels. Supa's been trying to get there since forever - on account of the rooftop bar, live DJ, funky decor, and it being billed as "the best 360 views of Downtown LA in the city."

Check it:

Hunh? Right.

So me and the Power Couple and my ex-brother-in-law (we all still cool, yo) mob up to the spot: and lemme just say this - this joint is the business. Oh.my.fucking.gosh. Where the hell have I been?

Great drinks, live-ass atmosphere, along with an eclectic mix of folks. Think: corporate sharks, industry peeps, the LA-type bohemian set, a professional baller or two or twenty, the wanna be actors slash producers slash rappers slash"I'll-fuck-anybody-to-get-ahead" types, and the good-ole-regular folk who get a kick out of parlaying with (and crackin' on) all of the above. Good shit, yo. Oh, and Vanity Fair mag claims, "On the hotel roof, things get slightly kinky." Supa didn't witness any outright kinkiness - but the potential is most definitely there. Trust....

Addendum: While cocktailing, we had the most delightful streams of convo; ranging from what's really up with Scary Terry McMillan, to the in-depth pros/cons of Jigga Man's rhyming style/skills, to breaking down the old man in the club syndrome, to wondering why sistas in LA seem to be jumpin on the fake titties bandwagon, to pondering the realities of love and marriage and relationships in the 21st century and if/how they can be positively/spiritually/soulfully maintained without (or despite?) (a) getting on each other's nerves/nagging each other to fucking death (b) losing one's self/identity and (c) becoming the "dining dead." (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind reference)

So, in short - us negroes was waxing philisophical about some shit. Might blog more about it. Maybe not.

Yeah. Okay, so next...

It's Thursday...and Supa decides not to be salty - 'cuz even though her bd falls in the middle of the funky week, she's got some time off. Which means: there's a small window of time/opportunity in which Supa could sneak into some fun trouble......so! Without much debate, she decideds to hop her ass on a plane and take an impromptu trip - to have a lil' mo' fun, and to see what else she can see....

Now. Let's cut to the chase and get down to the real:

Realness #1: Mixing alcoholic drinks is a general no-no; especially when Patron is in any way involved; and:

Realness#2: A chic will truly find out to what extent a guy is feeling her, once she gets ultra-tipsy, real mouthy, smokes some lah, does an evil shot of Patron, then basically does something that (at this point) they'd both really like to forget... Where's Dr. Howard Mierzwiak when you need him?

Exploits, part two. To be continued..