theres a hotel on wilshire called the Gaylord
odd name, but not really once you realize that Mr. Wilshire’s first name was Gaylord.
on the floor of the Gaylord is one of the best bars in Koreatown, if not LA, called the H.M.S. Bounty
famous people from times gone by used to frequent the Bounty back when the infamous Ambassador Hotel was across the street.
and in this bar they have a back area where you can eat home cooking.
like, for example, steaks on opening day.
Baseball Steaks, to be precise
what is a baseball steak? no one truly knows, but Google claims it is one of the cheapest cuts of meat you can find
but prepared in such a way that it is delectable.
and it was.
12 boys, 11 baseball steaks: basart swears he’s allergic to cows.
we told jokes, the single men hiding out in the booths around us chuckled at our nonsense.
when the food came we quieted down and ate.
the asian waitress lady mom said, “there must be trouble. whenever the kids are quiet they’re plotting!”
but no, lady we were just amazed by the baseball steaks.
afterwards we walked a few blocks south to The Prince, a truly korean bar
where you had to ring the bell underneath the fruity statue to get your waiter to come to you.
we drank out of pitchers and talked about Washio, The Replacements
and how two of our friends are getting a divorce.
what? no! yes? no!
so we drank even more.