in La this week

SkyHog

SkyHog

Touchdown! Greaser!
Joined
Feb 23, 2005
Messages
18,510
Location
Middle of nowhere Texas
Display Name
Everything Offends Me
Home Airfield
KLUD
Anyone game for dinner this Thursday? I am in El Segundo through Friday afternoon .
 
There are a couple of decent local restaurants in El Segundo itself (and more down in Manhattan Beach). Second City Bistro and Deluca Trattoria are recommendations for El Segundo. Strand House and one of the sushi places in Manhattan Beach is good. Scott mentioned a good place, too.

I will also say that the Proud Bird (near LAX) has a great view if you're into plane spotting & a few old planes in the yard, but the food is not as good as you can find elsewhere.
 
Stay away from the bar at the Hilton at LAX - expensive and very weak drinks.

Scenery isn't too bad, though..
 
wsuffa said:
Two words: "plate margin"
Click to expand...

Oh man, there are so many more valid reasons to hate it here, that's a third-rate one at best. :D

72F, beaches are loaded with chicas OP. You done good. You'll be close to MB Post, my recommendation for snacks: http://eatmbpost.com/ -- but yelp knows the rest of them.

I'm playing hangar at KRAL on Thu, but if there's a meet in progress, I could find some time.

Also have a reasonable crash pad/car if needed. 100-gallon ocean view included. I'm on the opposite side of LAX from ElSeg, in Playa Del Rey. Shout if I can help at all.
 
schmookeeg said:
Oh man, there are so many more valid reasons to hate it here, that's a third-rate one at best. :D

72F, beaches are loaded with chicas OP. You done good. You'll be close to MB Post, my recommendation for snacks: http://eatmbpost.com/ -- but yelp knows the rest of them.

I'm playing hangar at KRAL on Thu, but if there's a meet in progress, I could find some time.

Also have a reasonable crash pad/car if needed. 100-gallon ocean view included. I'm on the opposite side of LAX from ElSeg, in Playa Del Rey. Shout if I can help at all.
Click to expand...

I'll take you up on a meet & greet if it can happen, but I don't need the crash pad - I'm staying at a hotel on business in El Segundo. I am, however, going out to dinner tonight at MB.
 
Aw c'mon guys. Proud Bird Restaurant. How many places can you dine amongst the airplanes?
 
The only thing I like about California is that you can buy very good wine, on the cheap, pretty much anywhere. Drug store, airport... probably car washes and gas stations, for all I know.

Other than that... it's not a place for a boy from Brooklyn. People are just too nice, and they have no appreciation for sarcasm. Following is a rough transcription of an actual conversation that I had on one of my trips there. It happened while I was buying coffee for six people at some coffee shop.

Everyone in California loves coffee, you have to understand. But no one in California owns a coffeepot. They buy every cup of coffee they drink. So early on my second morning in California, I was sent out to buy coffee and bagels for my party. I'll enclose the things I was thinking, but didn't say, in [brackets].

BARISTA (a cute young female with a smile and a degree of cheerfulness that would be illegal in New York City at that time in the morning): "Welcome to Our Coffeshop! We have coffees from all over the world, and fresh baked goods as well! How may I help you this morning?"

ME: [Shut the ^*&Y#$ up. It's too early to be happy.] "Six cups of coffee, please, and six buttered bagels."

BARISTA: "Will that be to go?"

ME: [No, you moron, I'll be drinking six coffees and eating six bagels here.] "Yes, it will be to go."

BARISTA: "How would you like the coffees?"

ME: [I have no idea how they like their coffee.] "Can I have milk and sugar on the side, please?"

BARISTA: "Sure! Would you like the milk in a cup?"

ME: [No, just pour it in my shirt pocket, you annoying little moron.] "Yes, a cup would be good."

BARISTA: "Great! What kind of butter would you like on the bagels?"

ME: [How many *&^%$ kinds of butter are there?] "Just the regular kind. You know. The kind made from milk."

BARISTA: "Great! All of our dairy products are organic from local farmers whose cows are free range! Isn't that cool?"

ME: [I couldn't care less if they're milked at gunpoint and live in a minivan. Just butter the &&^$% bagels.] "Yes, that's very nice. Are the cows unionized, as well?"

BARISTA: < blank stare >

I think it's a cultural clash. Or maybe something in the water.

I will say this: People in California are very inviting. I think three-quarters of the strangers I met tried to talk me into moving there. They also like to call it "Paradise." One particularly outgoing type sidled up to me and gave me the "Why don't you move out here, it's Paradise!" spiel while I was waiting at a bar for my ride to pick me up after I arrived. I told him that having to worry about earthquakes, wild fires, tidal waves, tsunamis, and their accompanying floods, destruction, and devastation, was not my idea of paradise.

"No problem," said he. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

Okay, why not? He seemed like a friendly enough type -- did I mention that everyone in California is friendly? We walked out of the bar to his car, and he popped open the trunk. I peered in, and he had two cases of bottled water, dehydrated packaged foods, a tent, a camp stove, a sleeping bag, and other camping paraphernalia.

"See?" he said. "I'm all ready. No matter what kind of disaster may happen, I always have a roof over my head, water to drink, and food to eat!"

I spared the gentleman my skepticism about his assertion that having to carry a portable home in one's trunk was something that came to mind when I thought about "Paradise." He wouldn't understand. Instead, I shook his hand, thanked him, and promised to sell everything I owned and move to California just as soon as I could tie up some loose ends back in New York. He seemed very, very happy to hear that. I think they get commission.

And then there was the shower. When I got to the hotel, I tried to take a shower. But the water only sort of dribbled out. Try as I might, I couldn't get a respectable stream of water. So I called the desk to inform them that there was a problem.

They sent a smiling maintenance man up to check the water flow, and he informed me that the shower was working fine. Apparently, in California, there's a law regulating shower heads. They can only dribble the water out, he explained. And then he told me I should move to California. "It's Paradise," he said.

-Rich
 
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RJM62 said:
The only thing I like about California is that you can buy very good wine, on the cheap, pretty much anywhere. Drug store, airport... probably car washes and gas stations, for all I know.

Other than that... it's not a place for a boy from Brooklyn. People are just too nice, and they have no appreciation for sarcasm. Following is a rough transcription of an actual conversation that I had on one of my trips there. It happened while I was buying coffee for six people at some coffee shop.

Everyone in California loves coffee, you have to understand. But no one in California owns a coffeepot. They buy every cup of coffee they drink. So early on my second morning in California, I was sent out to buy coffee and bagels for my party. I'll enclose the things I was thinking, but didn't say, in [brackets].

BARISTA (a cute young female with a smile and a degree of cheerfulness that would be illegal in New York City at that time in the morning): "Welcome to Our Coffeshop! We have coffees from all over the world, and fresh baked goods as well! How may I help you this morning?"

ME: [Shut the ^*&Y#$ up. It's too early to be happy.] "Six cups of coffee, please, and six buttered bagels."

BARISTA: "Will that be to go?"

ME: [No, you moron, I'll be drinking six coffees and eating six bagels here.] "Yes, it will be to go."

BARISTA: "How would you like the coffees?"

ME: [I have no idea how they like their coffee.] "Can I have milk and sugar on the side, please?"

BARISTA: "Sure! Would you like the milk in a cup?"

ME: [No, just pour it in my shirt pocket, you annoying little moron.] "Yes, a cup would be good."

BARISTA: "Great! What kind of butter would you like on the bagels?"

ME: [How many *&^%$ kinds of butter are there?] "Just the regular kind. You know. The kind made from milk."

BARISTA: "Great! All of our dairy products are organic from local farmers whose cows are free range! Isn't that cool?"

ME: [I couldn't care less if they're milked at gunpoint and live in a minivan. Just butter the &&^$% bagels.] "Yes, that's very nice. Are the cows unionized, as well?"

BARISTA: < blank stare >

I think it's a cultural clash. Or maybe something in the water.

I will say this: People in California are very inviting. I think three-quarters of the strangers I met tried to talk me into moving there. They also like to call it "Paradise." One particularly outgoing type sidled up to me and gave me the "Why don't you move out here, it's Paradise!" spiel while I was waiting at a bar for my ride to pick me up after I arrived. I told him that having to worry about earthquakes, wild fires, tidal waves, tsunamis, and their accompanying floods, destruction, and devastation, was not my idea of paradise.

"No problem," said he. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

Okay, why not? He seemed like a friendly enough type -- did I mention that everyone in California is friendly? We walked out of the bar to his car, and he popped open the trunk. I peered in, and he had two cases of bottled water, dehydrated packaged foods, a tent, a camp stove, a sleeping bag, and other camping paraphernalia.

"See?" he said. "I'm all ready. No matter what kind of disaster may happen, I always have a roof over my head, water to drink, and food to eat!"

I spared the gentleman my skepticism about his assertion that having to carry a portable home in one's trunk was something that came to mind when I thought about "Paradise." He wouldn't understand. Instead, I shook his hand, thanked him, and promised to sell everything I owned and move to California just as soon as I could tie up some loose ends back in New York. He seemed very, very happy to hear that. I think they get commission.

And then there was the shower. When I got to the hotel, I tried to take a shower. But the water only sort of dribbled out. Try as I might, I couldn't get a respectable stream of water. So I called the desk to inform them that there was a problem.

They sent a smiling maintenance man up to check the water flow, and he informed me that the shower was working fine. Apparently, in California, there's a law regulating shower heads. They can only dribble the water out, he explained. And then he told me I should move to California. "It's Paradise," he said.

-Rich
Click to expand...

I had to tone down my Jerseyness when I moved out to NM. Everyone has such thin skin out here..
 
RJM62 said:
The only thing I like about California is that you can buy very good wine, on the cheap, pretty much anywhere. Drug store, airport... probably car washes and gas stations, for all I know.

Other than that... it's not a place for a boy from Brooklyn. People are just too nice, and they have no appreciation for sarcasm. Following is a rough transcription of an actual conversation that I had on one of my trips there. It happened while I was buying coffee for six people at some coffee shop.

Everyone in California loves coffee, you have to understand. But no one in California owns a coffeepot. They buy every cup of coffee they drink. So early on my second morning in California, I was sent out to buy coffee and bagels for my party. I'll enclose the things I was thinking, but didn't say, in [brackets].

BARISTA (a cute young female with a smile and a degree of cheerfulness that would be illegal in New York City at that time in the morning): "Welcome to Our Coffeshop! We have coffees from all over the world, and fresh baked goods as well! How may I help you this morning?"

ME: [Shut the ^*&Y#$ up. It's too early to be happy.] "Six cups of coffee, please, and six buttered bagels."

BARISTA: "Will that be to go?"

ME: [No, you moron, I'll be drinking six coffees and eating six bagels here.] "Yes, it will be to go."

BARISTA: "How would you like the coffees?"

ME: [I have no idea how they like their coffee.] "Can I have milk and sugar on the side, please?"

BARISTA: "Sure! Would you like the milk in a cup?"

ME: [No, just pour it in my shirt pocket, you annoying little moron.] "Yes, a cup would be good."

BARISTA: "Great! What kind of butter would you like on the bagels?"

ME: [How many *&^%$ kinds of butter are there?] "Just the regular kind. You know. The kind made from milk."

BARISTA: "Great! All of our dairy products are organic from local farmers whose cows are free range! Isn't that cool?"

ME: [I couldn't care less if they're milked at gunpoint and live in a minivan. Just butter the &&^$% bagels.] "Yes, that's very nice. Are the cows unionized, as well?"

BARISTA: < blank stare >

I think it's a cultural clash. Or maybe something in the water.

I will say this: People in California are very inviting. I think three-quarters of the strangers I met tried to talk me into moving there. They also like to call it "Paradise." One particularly outgoing type sidled up to me and gave me the "Why don't you move out here, it's Paradise!" spiel while I was waiting at a bar for my ride to pick me up after I arrived. I told him that having to worry about earthquakes, wild fires, tidal waves, tsunamis, and their accompanying floods, destruction, and devastation, was not my idea of paradise.

"No problem," said he. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

Okay, why not? He seemed like a friendly enough type -- did I mention that everyone in California is friendly? We walked out of the bar to his car, and he popped open the trunk. I peered in, and he had two cases of bottled water, dehydrated packaged foods, a tent, a camp stove, a sleeping bag, and other camping paraphernalia.

"See?" he said. "I'm all ready. No matter what kind of disaster may happen, I always have a roof over my head, water to drink, and food to eat!"

I spared the gentleman my skepticism about his assertion that having to carry a portable home in one's trunk was something that came to mind when I thought about "Paradise." He wouldn't understand. Instead, I shook his hand, thanked him, and promised to sell everything I owned and move to California just as soon as I could tie up some loose ends back in New York. He seemed very, very happy to hear that. I think they get commission.

And then there was the shower. When I got to the hotel, I tried to take a shower. But the water only sort of dribbled out. Try as I might, I couldn't get a respectable stream of water. So I called the desk to inform them that there was a problem.

They sent a smiling maintenance man up to check the water flow, and he informed me that the shower was working fine. Apparently, in California, there's a law regulating shower heads. They can only dribble the water out, he explained. And then he told me I should move to California. "It's Paradise," he said.

-Rich
Click to expand...


Wow. Just wow. Very well written and funny though.

I think some of us in CA would get sarcasm. I have TWO coffee makers at home - one press and one automatic / drip. Just so you know.

Kimberly

PS - We don't actually get commission.
 
GCA319 said:
I had to tone down my Jerseyness when I moved out to NM. Everyone has such thin skin out here..
Click to expand...

Yeah, I can relate. I have to tame the New York City habits quite a bit up here in the boonies. Although at least here, they're somewhat familiar with the downstate nature, kind of like people who live by the border of a country and develop a passing familiarity with the language of the adjacent nation. So even though the locals may not "get" the sarcasm all the time, they do "get" enough of it not to take it literally.

In addition, we have pockets of ex pats from The City and New Jersey who get together at each others' homes to be rude, surly, and snide with each other. It's kind of like methadone treatment.

-Rich
 
kimberlyanne546 said:
Wow. Just wow. Very well written and funny though.

I think some of us in CA would get sarcasm. I have TWO coffee makers at home - one press and one automatic / drip. Just so you know.

Kimberly

PS - We don't actually get commission.
Click to expand...

Thank you, Kimberly. The transcript was slightly tongue-in-cheek (although not that much).

-Rich
 
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