Sidebar: When did Long Beach become the new San Francisco or Diego? And not in a good way. All I'm saying is, LB lesbians are not like Los Angeles girls. The fashion
forward kind. The trend setters. Yes I'm bigin' up LA for once. Say what you want about LA but we collectively got the hottest women.
Needless to say, we rolled out to LB and were fully equipped with "hi hatas" and everything. That's how you know you doin it. Even though there were some corny chicks and off beat strippers we had a good time. Transexuals were pulling on our clothes, Italian mafia chicks were gettin' gangsta when the attraction wasn't mutual, and a Latina snatched me up and salsa'ed me in the middle of the dance floor (spins and everything) it was entertaining. Okay so when did it start turning into "one of those nights" you ask? When we left the LB spot after they promptly shut it down at 1:30AM, and headed out to an "intimate engagement" we were previously invited to in a penthouse suite in downtown LA.
So we hype on our way there, partying, continuing what LB started right there in the Honda. Everything is smiles and laughter until we make the wrong turn onto Skid Row. Now, the homey drivin' is from FL, and I was raised partly in LA and Chino Hills so I don't frequent the hood hood. Skid Row at that hour is like nothing I'd seen in a looong time. I know ya'll reading this are like "oh yeah, its bad", but seriously, when the last time you been there? Its disturbing. Rows of tents and vagrants wondering freely in the street. No police. No civilians. Its like Night of the Living Dead as the fiends sluggishly roamed through the avenues with real life glitches like the scary fuckers in The Ring.
At one point we had to smash through the red light as a few of them were making their way over to the car. I have a lot of compassion for the less fortunate but I don't play that. We finally made it to our destination just a few blocks over and felt like we were in the clear, but were we ever wrong. We were in for a whole 'nother type of movie when we made it to the penthouse. I'm not one of substantial wealth so you won't regularly find me in Penthouse's for the weekend so I was thinkin', this is gon' be cool. We get to the top floor and entered the twighlite zone.
The doors were those of an old insane asylum (not that i frequent those either) but they were made with that thick molding of dark wood with the glass in the middle that you can't see through and the room numbers on them. The lobby had weird book shelves that were out of place and in the center of that was one single red chair.
Again, there was no one passing by to distract me and my party from the erie feeling. No janitors. No elegance. Just straight up white hallways of wooden insane asylum doors, silence, and a single red rocking chair. Okay, maybe I do watch too many movies but all the chair needed to do was rock once and i'da been out of there, but since it didn't we made our way to the suite. By this time, half of our party stayed in the car, (they clearly slept through the skid row experience so they were ok with that) so it was just me and the homey. The person who invited us to the gathering refused to meet us at the door and said to just come in, "the doors unlocked". That was weird, being that there was no sound coming from the room or any of the other suites on that floor, it looked vacant. We decided to go in and were met with the scent of marijuana and huge black velvet curtains. We walked through the curtains and into a red light special. It was a little swanky with its red and black decor, elevated round bed to the ceiling and 500 gallon fish tank filled exotic fish. It also had a pool table, a bar, a kitchen, and huge windows with a stunning view of the Skid Row that we had just escaped unscathed. We stood there, in the middle of this experience, greeted by no one, until we were summoned to the elevated bed occupied by what appeared to be a couple.
Now, my homie is cool, nice looking girl even, but getting down with her like that is like getting down with your 52 year old diabetic uncle Perry, so what I thought we had walked into was NOT going to go down how this couple had seemed to have planned it. However, as we walked closer and nervously asked, "where is everybody at?" we noticed a whole other bottom part of the bed. It was like a cool ass, modern bunk bed for rich adults because it was in the shape of a circle, first of all, and had a small rabbit hole opening and inside it were at least 5 or 6 lesbians. All chillin', all lookin high ass fuck, some even with their pants undone, lookin like they had just finished gettin it crackin or was about to and looked at me and my friend like we were just in time. We were, 1, relieved that there wasn't a foursome planned, yet afraid that an orgy was. As the host climbed down the stairs of the bed she tried to make small talk and break the ice that we had clearly brought to their party. I was still a little tipsy, at least enough to watch and be entertained by the fish while some who were in the rabbit hole broke out of Wonderland to play pool with the hostess. My friend and I took the opportunity to complain of hunger pains when party goer 2 prematurely knocked the 8 ball in the pocket, cutting the game short. We gave our hugs and goodbyes and broke out of there like two run away slaves. If my stud homie and I had seen each other naked like that, we would have never been able to look at each other the same again. Luckily we avoided molestation by the d-lister, the local rock star, the rapper look alike, and a of extras. We made it to the car laughing in disbelief, rolled out to the nearest Denny's, and filled in our sleeping co-stars, laughing so hard we cried while rocking back and forth like crack heads. After feasting and rehashing the evening, we let the credits roll as we made it back to the house by 5AM.
Its time for me to now get dressed for Part II. Hope to see ya'll there, maybe you'll get a part in my next post.
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