Carlos and I headed down to the Temple Bar tonight and, at some point between the artist I was there to review and the artist that followed, we got hungry. Maybe it was a result of being trapped inside a club that looks like a Chocolate Thai lover's paradise, but damn did we have the munchies. Despite the fact that the Temple Bar does serve food and that their samosas are pretty tasty, we opted to walk around and find a restaurant. The club was way too crowded with True Religion jean-wearing chatterboxes anyhow. We needed to get out of there.
We walked west down Wilshire looking for a pie shop where we had noshed a year or so ago. After trudging down the road from 11th Street to 3rd Street (a hike for L.A. people), we realized that 1) the pie shop was gone and 2) all of the other restaurants were closed. Now, had we walked in the other direction, we would have hit Toi, but missing out on that experience is all for the better since my Toi phase ended five years ago and Carlos always hated that place.
We walked back towards the club, with yours truly stumbling along the way. You would think that someone with banana boats for feet would have enough grounding to walk in inch-and-a-half heels. Not so. After teetering over eight city blocks, we happened upon a Coffee Bean and stopped inside to grab some goodies and tea.
Now, here is the thing that gets me. West Side types love to mock the Valley for being so suburban. "Oh, everything closes at sundown over there," they say. Pshaw! Here we were in the heart of Santa Monica, walking distance from the tourist trap of 3rd Street Promenade and we had to stop at a freakin' Coffee Bean to get something to eat. Plus, it wasn't even midnight and we were the dead last customers served before they closed shop. At least in the Valley you are never more than walking distance from either a Denny's, Del Taco or Jack in the Box, all of which are 24/7.