Hipsters unite

George gave me a tour of Echo Park’s hipster hangouts, dive-y bars with twenty-somethings in too-tight jeans. We started at Love Joy’s, on the corner of Sunset and Portia, where I had a vodka gimlet and the bartender had tight, white Levi’s that were just barely long enough and a mustache. I wanted to take him home. We then walked a block to another bar with a hidden name where blondes danced, boys played pool, and the outside smoking alley had a toilet. Our final stop along Sunset was another bar whose name I can’t remember but was a fifty second drive away from the others (really, no one walks in LA). The band that was playing was good except for the lead singer who had too much attitude and a voice that wasn’t his.