We love LA more than we love the bartender slipping an extra shot in our ten-buck cocktail. But we’re worried you might not love it as much as we do. So today, we’re abandoning the notion of convincing you with words (nobody reads anymore, anyway!) and ambushing you with pictures of the city that’s still surprising us.
Wherein Two Beccas, on account of vigorous ‘sightseeing,’ are forced to substitute an IM convo for a legit column
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You Gotta Git Up, Git Out and Git Somethin’
Atlanta’s Goodie Mob might’ve said it most famously, but ain’t nobody lived it as well as actors in LA. The second annual Hollywood Fringe Festival is so official, you should screw stalking Hollywood and Highland in order to gawk at D-list celebrities desperate to extend the shelf life of their expired (non)celebrity. The Fringe can be just as sleazy, anyway; and you can justify it ’cause theater’s high art. Even if you’ve been face down on a casting couch, everybody’s a little bit of a snob sometimes.
Brew, Do, Tattoo
Yeah, the freaks come out at night, but June gloom is lifting, and LA’s so lovely during the day. Get your coffee at Groundwork on Hollywood and Cauhenga, then walk up the block for some Hairroin. NO, crazy, not drugs, the very hip yet chill salon owned by Janine, one of the final contestants on that Bravo show about cutting hair. Or walk the other way, towards Fountain, for real needles and a hell of a souvenir: Kat Von D’s High Voltage Tattoo.
On a Roll
We’re not here to pimp reality television stars, really. In fact, make like you’ll never be in front of any kind of camera again and feed your face at All About the Bread, just a salami’s length from Fringe Central. Loaves baked fresh every 30 minutes, pastrami comes from the East Coast, and we’re officially done trying to convince you. Or, if your lazy bones 86’d the “morning” part of our PAINSTAKINGLY constructed itinerary, you can get French toast the size of your head all day at Grub. Shit is artisan, y’all.
Woolf at the (Stage) Door
Okay, Fatty, let’s go see some shows. Because schadenfreude courses through our veins like diesel through an 18-wheeler, our first stop is gonna be the ripped-as-hell Not Man Apart Physical Theatre Ensemble’s Rock in Her Pocket (Theatre Asylum, 5:30 pm). Young company members Alix Angelis and Vincent Cardinale have constructed a deep, dark comedy based on the life and work of Virginia Woolf — and they’ll be serving tea and cookies, just to remind us who’s fit and who’s not.
Grilled Holes, Then Frolic
Fringe will feed you, too, with a bunch of food trucks. Hungry Nomad! (Flatbreads!) White Rabbit! (Filipino fusion!) We know that French toast is a distant memory, so Flatiron truck will hook it up with free grilled donut holes and creme fraiche. Fan-cee for ya fat azz.
It’s always the right time to drink in a Hollywood dive. What we love about LA bars: no windows, strong drinks, free snacks to sober you up before you drive home. One of our favorites is the Frolic Room. You could walk around the corner to Bardot, but why? You like velvet ropes guarding old It bars?
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Drinks, theater. Theater, drinks. And a really good piece of red velvet cake.
Take it from two people who love her, LA ain’t easy. You have to put a little work into the relationship, but we’ve been around the block and we’re ready to show you what she’s got. From holing up in a dark theater to hiking up to the Hollywood sign and back down for happy hour, Two Beccas choose the can’t-miss charms of LA. performances. Sexy spots to drink. Hip places to hang. Come play with Two Beccas every day.
If you’re like us, you need some liquid motivation to lure you out of bed, since liquid courage likely landed you there in the first place. Stumble down to Spring Street’s Spring for Coffee, one of the few respites from the prefabricated, pseudo-cozy coffee chains that dot downtown LA. They offer Bay Area roasters Blue Bottle Coffee exclusively, which should be enough to have you hustling down there. But it’s a little, um, intimate in Spring for Coffee. So grab a cup, and walk. Or be really LA and hop back in your car to drive a street over for breakfast.
Maple Bacon Beacon
Nickel Diner‘s been featured on the Food Network’s “Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives” with Guy Fieri, but don’t let that dissuade you. Besides being able to brag that you’ve eaten at one of Pulitzer Prize-winning food critic Jonathan Gold’s “99 Essential L.A. Restaurants,” you can defy the theory that everybody in LA does yoga and follows a macrobiotic diet by joining locals in celebrating Nickel’s claim to fame, the Maple Bacon Donut. They have tofu scrambles for you vegans, which is DINER, LA STYLE. To make up for that, they have the best red velvet cake in the world, and we feel qualified to make that hyperbolic statement, considering that the smart Becca grew up in the South.
Whiskey A Go Go
LA’s not a dress-up-for-the-theater kinda city, but maybe you’re into making a good first impression. So go somewhere classy with a strict dress code (this might be the only place your flip-flops will not fly) for a preshow cocktail, like Seven Grand. They’ve got 300 whiskeys that you can pretend to be all educated about, small batch bourbons and ryes for a song from 5 to 7 Wednesday night. Careful. Some of those bourbons have proofs that will put you out of theater rotation for the night.
RADAR: Becca Trifecta
But they’ll prime you for the first day of RADAR L.A., a carefully curated festival of international and experimental performances. Twelve of the fest’s 15 shows debut today, so we’re all about it and think you should be too.
Gertie Gets Going
Usually, our only points of disagreement are drinks and men (her: vodka, tall and lanky; her: whiskey, taller and lankier). But two of tonight’s RADAR performances are so good, we’re splitting up. Follow that Becca to Skid Row, pop into the unassuming Los Angeles Street Loft, and emerge from the elevators into the world premiere of Gertrude Stein’s Brewsie and Willie. Poor Dog Group, made up of smartypants CalArts alumni, uses the space in such inventive, surprising ways, you might not even care about the subject matter.