Some notes scribbled while waiting for the thing to start: "The echo park mob is out early tonight. These are the Michael Cera's of literati. Young, awkward, not quite so talented or knowledgeable as the hype would have us believe, but always with impeccable timing. The drink is fat tire or tecate (obvious much?). Every one is vaguely familiar in that East LA way (maybe I saw you in a B movie half a dozen years ago, maybe you're the guy who never leaves the back corner of spaceland). Every man is non-threatening, skinny and pale; the defining feature being an overabundance of facial hair so as to suggest a certain manliness otherwise lacking."
It was a good time.
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