Single in L.A.

Friday night two of the usual suspects (Kendra and I) happened upon happy hour at the usual spot (The Belmont). Giselle was recovering from too many Skinny Girl Margaritas (found a step by step recipe - below) the night before so she opted out. But we were joined by a few of the semi-usual suspects and good times(and several drinks) were had by all.

Being in L.A. at least 75% of the present company at any given time will be in the entertainment industry and such was the case that night. We went back and forth about what films sucked, who acquired what, who read which script and were even treated to a mini rundown of the Cannes Film Festival (I SO need to be there next year). But as always, when groups of women congregate there is (a teeny tiny bit of) discussion of men. Dating specifically.

So as we talk about all the crazy men out here, the men that mooch off of you (one girl said the guy she’s dating actually just showed up one day and never went home) and just how it’s hard to date out here in general (because LA is full of horny weirdos). It made me think about the fact that I used to have a ton of crazy dating stories, but my pool has been dry for a minute. What gives?

Having said that I’ve decided to lend myself to scientific research for the betterment of all womankind. I’ve set up four dates with guys I’m only mildly interested in just to see what happens. Knowing me, the predictable will happen. Developing.