
So, I just read about this new hidden cocktail bar on Facebook located somewhere around 6th and LaBrea. Ultra Don Draper cool and retro, with its sleek mid-century modern décor contrasted with dark wood and sexy low lighting. This new “hidden gem” gives the editors of Los Angeles Magazine “major Mrs. Maisel vibes” rather than Mad Men melancholia. The old-school ambience and the cocktails seem delightfully decadent, but will I venture outside of my Burbank/Toluca Lake neighborhood to experience this new cocktail bar?
Probably not.
The L.A. Art Walk has been around for years now. Have I ever been? Nope. And I love art. Free Twilight Series summer concert series at the Santa Monica Pier? Been there, done that, too far. How about that new DTLA restaurant opened by that hot, young, genius of a celebrity chef? Thanks, but I’ll pass. What about that new club on top of that swanky hotel with the famous D.J. everybody’s talking about? Absolutely not.
And why not?
Because I’ve reached a point in my life when spending my off hours in my living room, where my couches are human and dog friendly, is a far more appealing than hobnobbing at any restaurant, club, or bar.
My home is come as you are, kick off your shoes, put your feet up, and let’s enjoy that moderately priced, yet always reliable, bottle of wine. My living room is the space in which birthdays are celebrated, holiday gifts are opened, and rousing games of Cards Against Humanity are played. My coffee table is often laden with home cooked food and plentiful snacks to sustain my guests through Netflix binges, Bachelor viewing parties, and Game Of Thrones. I mean, why go to a bar to get that Mrs. Maisel vibe when I can stream it directly from the flat screen in my own living room?
When I do go out, I tend to frequent the same places over and over again, for the same reason I prefer staying in: comfort.
Sure. Every once and awhile I’ll level up and venture out and try a new restaurant, take in some live music, or imbibe in a little art and culture. I always enjoy myself– but never as much as I enjoy myself when my home is filled with people I love, when I can just be me, as is.

Like some people, I don’t suffer from an acute case of FOMO. I have no desire to sit in ungodly traffic only to circle endlessly looking for parking just to spend my hard earned money on $18 craft cocktails whilst having to endure the cacophonous din of loud music and louder voices so I can then go home and post a Yelp review.
Last year, I hosted an all female holiday sex toy gift exchange where there was no shortage of food and wine. We grooved to a customized Spotify 80’s dance music playlist, we got henna tattoos, and the sex toy exchange was absolutely hilarious. It was way more fun than any dumb club.
And when the party was over, it was but a short walk to my bedroom– my favorite spot in the house– where I share my bed with my dog, do the Sunday crossword, and am surrounded by art and books. My home is a refuge, a safe space for me and everyone I love, where memories are made, fun is had, and happiness reigns.
So, you can keep your hidden gem, Los Angeles Magazine, I’ve got everything I need right here.
