I was just minding my business dancing away at three in the afternoon inside of the always cool, on a Saturday, Hard Eight Lounge.
“Downtown Oliver Brown,” said the beautiful DJ Eden, dancing up to me.
“Eden, you’re so beautiful it hurts my soul.”
She twisted and turned around me. “So, what did you think of Lucky Strike?”
“It doesn’t open until Monday,” I answered, not all that concerned with a concept that, at least in my mind, bordered on Hollywood meets corporate America—my least favorite things next to ingesting broken glass.
“I heard they had a party last night,” her hair whipped across my face as she said this.
I stopped dancing and inserted my now very dirty feet into my flip-flops. “No one told me they were having a party.” I began text-messaging Eric. “Is there something going on at Lucky Strike?”
“I don’t know.” Appeared back on my iphone.
“Where are you going Oliver? C’mon stay and dance…”
I walked directly over to LA Live and proceeded up the escalator to Lucky Strike. Continue reading OLIVER STRIKES OUT