That Diner.

I got caught in a traffic detour yesterday and found myself stopped in front of Norms Diner on La Cienega. Back in January I would have never looked twice while driving by here, but I somewhat recently had a late night eating session here which fills my body with laughter, sadness, and the slight urge to vomit. After a night of drinking Lychee Martinis at Nick's Martini Lounge in Beverly Hills, I somehow wound up with three of my guy friends at a table in Norm's at 2am. I can't help but laugh when I think of this night because TO THIS DAY I get blamed for ordering the Chef's Sample Platter. For those of you who don't know, and WHY would you, the platter consists of fried shrimp (EW), mozzarella sticks, onion rings, honey mustard chicken fingers, and three kinds of dipping sauce. Note how I said EW after fried shrimp. EXACTLY. That shrimp came nowhere near my mouth but yet I still am known throughout my circle of friends as the fatty who ordered fried shrimp for the table. People who weren't even there called me the next day to ask me how the shrimp was. How fast word travels. After this deliciously drunk but disgustingly sober meal was over we were ready to leave and I somehow got stuck with the $40 bill. I guess it's a fair price to pay to be in the company of these wonderful boys. The point of this entry is no matter how fried food is, or how much money you spend on a shit load of calories, there are some memories that are worth the extra pounds. That night is forever imprinted on La Cienega Blvd.

Norms Diner.