Thursday night, my work happy hour group checked out the Wieland Brewery, the new underground location in Downtown LA. Their beer is surprisingly good. AND cheap. Happy hour $2.50 pint for their own brew. I come to love their amber. Others, the Hef and the Blonde. The hot wings are excellent, tender and a little crispy and just the right spice level. It’s baked into the wings, not drenched in messy sauce, also a bonus. And the happy hour menu is also cheap. Those drinking the house brews walked out with minimal damage. A few others who ordered Chimay at $8 a glass, not so much.
The service, on the other hand, left nothing to be desired. There was only one waitress and she didn’t come around much. Most of us got our drinks from the bar because it was just faster that way.
I had 2 pints and a shot. And I walked away lightly buzzed.
WALKED AWAY, people! I didn’t crash and burn after 2 pints and a shot. I surprised my drinking buddies and myself.
Oh yeah. I’m on the road to alcoholism. LOL.
Last night, we went out to dinner with James and Aurora. We went to try out LV Seafood in Lakewood. I was not at all impress. Hot and sour soup doesn’t have the “hot” and it seems someone lost a bottle of soy sauce in there. Shrimp in lobster sauce didn’t really have much flavor. Kung pao chicken wasn’t spicy. James and Brandon think they once again got the White Boy Menu. You know, when the level of spices get turn down because they didn’t want to kill white folks. I think food was just bland, period.
There was a bottle of wine on table next to us. And I kept eyeing it. Damn it, a glass of wine would be nice. Instead, James and Aurora invited us back to their place and they poured Aurora and I some port. We went crazy with We Love Katamari game. Aurora and I downed about an equivalent of one wine glass of port each.
Port. Another one of my weakness. I used to call it a day after the first pour.
Once again, I walked away with a glass full in my belly and a warm and fuzzy buzz–not the dizzying kind from beer and hard liquor–that only port could give me.
Yep. I am becoming on alcoholic.
*UPDATE* And Friday came. Celeste and I were held hostage by our boss until 7-ish. Stength in number, instead of going home by ourselves, I went with Celeste to her place and she drove me home. We went to the Union Station to wait for the train and, yes, folks, had a drink. Wayne, the bartender, served me up a Red Headed Slut, 2/3 collins glass of Jager and to that more orange vodka, and topped with a splash of cranberry juice. That is a hell of a lot of Jager! I downed it in 10 minutes and we ran to the train. Again, I had a very nice buzz but didn’t get drunk.
A GOOD 2 shots of Jager and a shot of vodka was in that cup and I didn’t get drunk!!! Holy hell…
But I currently am sporting a nice, skulling numbing, little headache though. It doesn’t pay to drink 3 days in a row!