The Bar & Restaurant Society

I really do not know where to start on this particular club. The night for me begins with one of my coworkers inviting us to Kress because her boyfriend is getting bottle service. That’s all fine and dandy. Of course I too am a Yelper, so I hit Yelp to get a basic idea of the venue.

The reviews were mixed at best, but there was one thing that stood out. There were several claims that it was necessary to watch one’s table because if you get bottle service, small Asian women would come, steal your bottle, and run away.

Not knowing what to think at this point (and still being relatively new to the Hollywood scene), I shrug it off. Now for brevity’s sake, I will omit the fact that another one of my coworkers was trying to set me up with one of her friends this same night. We all get to Kress and found that we had to valet our cars and get in line BEHIND the actual club. Nothing too complicated.

We go inside and the club was pretty large. From what I can remember there were a total of two or three floors. We stuck to the main floor for the entire night. The venue was fine. There was a large dance floor and purple hued lights dancing everywhere. All of the tables lined the walls and were quite comfortable.

I spent most of the time chilling at the table and drinking from the vodka bottle. There were a few times that a bunch of us would hit the dance floor, until eventually there was no one watching the table….that’s when it happened. Just like Yelp had foretold, small Asian women descended upon our table. Luckily we were close by and quickly shooed them away. Just an odd experience.

Here’s where things started to go south. Last call came around and people start heading for the exits. We all got to the parking lot and were met with the sight of what seemed to be hundreds of people amassing outside. We soon realized that in the middle of all of this chaos was the valet booth. Let me see if I can paint you a picture here. Normally if you valet your car, you get a ticket stub. When you wish to retrieve your car, you give the valet your ticket stub and they retrieve your vehicle that they themselves have parked in a location undisclosed to you.

This was NOT the case. First, there were no valet attendants, just a guy in a valet booth surrounded by a sea of predominantly small Asian women. To get to the front of this tiny booth you had to punch,  claw, maim, and brutally pulverize all that stood in your path with sheer might and ruthless cunning.

Fortunately I was with Beworaeer at the time, so I let her use her cunning (and the fact that she was a woman with boobies) to push her way up to the booth. Of course the men in the crowd parted for her and the small women were trounced due their lack of height. I was impressed to say the least. In fact I stood back and waited with Beworaeer’s date. 30 minutes later, Beworaeer emerged from the crowd victorious.

Beworaeer: Hear ya go P-Tyme
P-Tyme: Sweet, did they tell you where they parked my car?
Beworaeer: No clue dude, we gotta find my car…I think it’s over there (She waived her hand in some general location)
P-Tyme: What the fuck…Thanks for getting my keys though.

Beworaeer disappeared with her date in the sea of people and I was left to find my car in this crowded parking lot. The parking lot of Kress wasn’t small either, so you can understand me when I say, I was PISSED. At least Beworaeer gave me a basic direction to look. I started my search by going to the less crowded part of the parking lot. Of course, as some of you know by now, my luck is rarely that great.

As I continued to look I found myself returning to the more congested part of the parking lot. I realized some of the crowd was gathering around a makeshift hot dog stand (which is a popular thing in Hollywood. They get great business when all of the drunkies leave the clubs). Then the thought occurred to me. If my car was behind that hot dog stand….I would murder everyone. I would literally run over every single person in this parking lot and make bloody mess of things.

Hot Dog Stand

As I felt my eyes twitch, my teeth grit, my brow furrow, and my fists clench so that I can punch the heart out of someone’s chest, I saw my car. Fortunately for everyone in the parking lot, it was not BEHIND the hot dog stand, just RIGHT NEXT to it. This meant that I was not blocked in, but the congestion in front of my car was still heavy enough that it was quite difficult to move.

Fuck it, baby steps. I hopped into my car and began to slowly inch up. When I say inch up, I mean centimeter up. I was going so slow, that I rolled down my window and had a conversation with a guy next to me sitting on a car.

Asian Guy: Don’t bother, it’s going to take you forever to get out of here
P-Tyme: Seriously, what is this? Tokyo Drift? Is this normal?
Asian Guy: Hahahaha, no idea, this was my first time here.
P-Tyme: Damn…….Is that your car?
Asian Guy: Nope…no clue where my car is.
P-Tyme: Damn this place…well good luck
Asian Guy: Thanks

I would like to tell you that I drove out of that parking lot that was apparently built by Satan, but no. In fact when I ended my conversation with the guy, I still had only moved a whole two inches! My window was still down. Realizing that he was still there, I looked away and turned on the radio. This still felt funny, so for closure, I rolled up my window and turned on my AC.

It took me an hour or more to get out of that parking lot. Every inch I progressed was an internal victory in a never ending war. Let me just say, if ever I am in a car that is valeted at Kress and I have to wait in that mess again, I will kill everything!

~P-Tyme