Home > Uncategorized > From the Archives: A Night in Los Angeles

From the Archives: A Night in Los Angeles

Last night I talked my way into an underwear party at Shepherd Farey’s warehouse in downtown Los Angeles.

I then, throughout the course of the night, was able to cheat, lie and steal my way to the top.

En route I was informed that this party was serving free drinks. This was a lie. Drinks were free only if you made a “donation” to the bands. If you made a donation, they gave you drink tickets in accordance with how much money you donated. Essentially $5 got you a ticket, and a ticket got you a drink. I found this to be total bullshit, so I took matters into my own hands.

I first approached the host of the party and introduced myself as a local music critic who was interested in writing for his magazine. We talked for a while and I convinced him that I was cool. We chatted some more and I met his associates. Everyone important at this party was aware of me, and things were going good.

At this point, I ventured to the back area of the party which was located outside behind the warehouse in an enclosed area. There was a bar that only served Tecate. A young, Russian model was bartending. There was no line at this particular bar. There was a ridiculous line at the bar inside. People were anxious to drink beer.

I informed the Russian bartender that I was hired help and she should go on a smoke break. So she believed me (she had no reason not to) and left on her break. At this point I stopped accepting tickets for beer and started asking for cash. It was fucking awesome. I was at a party, and had talked my way into bartending at it for a profit.

I was paid in the following ways by desperate partygoers who needed beer to keep their night in full swing: Cocaine, Xanex, Vicodin, American Currency, Euros, Condoms, Whiskey, Beer, Cigarettes and a Blow Job.

About 2 hours after I sent her on her break, the Russian bartender (now visibly upset) approached me with the owner of the warehouse. He demanded to know who the fuck I was and what the fuck I was doing. I explained to him using a confusing list of familiar names that I was a friend of a friend who was hired to help. I did this in a way that was both convincing and impossible to verify. He believed my story and let me continue bartending much to the chagrin of the Russian model bartender girl.

She caught on that I was not accepting drink tickets and was instead pocketing cash. I let her know that I’d split the money 50/50 with her. She declined. So for the next 2 hours I continued to bartend without any authorization and pocket tons of money. I was funneling free beer to my friends all night behind the Russian’s back. I was doing tons of free drugs in exchange for beers. People (mostly coke heads) kept telling me how “fucking awesome” I was. I kept making tons of money and offering it to the Russian and she continued to refuse.

At around 4:30am we ran out of beer. So we had to shut down the bar. I began to walk away and the Russian grabs me. “Give me all of your fucking money or else you will be stabbed by my friends when you walk outside” she says.

“Fucking excuse me, bitch”, I reply. “I offered to split it 50/50 with you, so why the fuck are you hustling me?”

“Shut up and give me the MONEY!” she screamed. “Give me everything now or else you die. Russian mob stabs you if you leave. They are watching you right now. Give me the money.”

Horrified, I reached in my pocket and gave her a small portion of the huge wad of cash I had hidden in my jacket. It was around $100.

“I know you have more! Fucking pay me or else my boyfriend will fucking gut you like swine when you leave!” she said. I refused.

Clearly aware that this bitch was fucking crazy, and not willing to lose any more of my hard-earned money, I ran for the door. I managed to escape the party without being stabbed and was able to hide the money in a nearby dumpster. Now furious, I ran back into the party and grabbed a can of Tecate.

I stormed back to the outside area where the Russian was and heaved the can at full speed at her, hitting her right between the throat and shoulder. “Fuck you! You piece of shit cunt!” I said. “Don’t you dare ever fucking try to shake me down!” I then rushed her in an attempt to knock her out for threatening my life.

I was then promptly and efficiently beaten by a black man and a large group of mexicans. They beat the shit out of me before I could reach the Russian and kill her. They also threw me out of the party and told me I was banned for life.

So I grabbed the money I had left from its hiding spot and got the fuck out of Dodge.

I still can’t believe that Russian model tried to fucking shake me down and threatened to have me killed if I didn’t pay her. Being extorted by a beautiful foreigner who thinks she’s smarter than me was absolute bullshit. I do not feel bad about “hitting a girl.” In fact, I would have broken her teeth had I been given the chance. There’s a difference between hitting a woman you love, and attacking a viscious cunt who threatens to have you killed. I believe what I did was justified, and I’d do it again.

I hope that bitch woke up in pain this morning and felt like a fucking moron.

Because I know I woke up this morning feeling like a champ with $200 bucks in my wallet and a pocket full of free drugs. Not too fucking shabby for a night in LA.

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