Opening Night Jitters

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Tomorrow is my first official day back in the booze business. I’ve been gone since March 15th, 2018, so I’m out of the loop, but I’m hoping I’ll settle down once I hit my first few appointments. I hope it’s like riding a bike.

We hit up Studio City this morning for the first farmers’ market of 2019. I’ve never felt so ugly in all my life. Every person there, male and female, was impeccably put together—the dudes especially. There were paparazzi running around everywhere, snapping photos of all the hot celebs, which added a certain pressure to perform. My wife and I were well-dressed, but unlike the Bay Area where we were often the only people not wearing yoga pants and North Face jackets (therefore standing out by default), the people in LA always bring it—even on Sunday morning. We grabbed brunch at Joan’s on 3rd and did some people watching. I think we could have sat there for hours soaking up the scene. “We need our A game next time,” my wife said to me.

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Since I’ll be working primarily behind the scenes in importation and distribution, I needed to get my car ready for the SoCal grind. I’ll be spending plenty of time behind the wheel, driving from bar to bar and retailer to retailer, so I got the tires rotated and the oil changed in anticipation of the week’s events. Later on in the evening, we decided to take a walk down Ventura Boulevard and noticed that every single restaurant had throngs of customers watching TV screens. I assumed it was playoff football, but upon closer inspection it was the Golden Globe awards. When I say “every single restaurant,” I mean it. Literally every spot from Van Nuys to Kester had the Hollywood event on multiple screens with the sound on, no less!

“This place is tailor made for us,” I said to my wife, as we popped into the Sherman for cocktails and a light supper, sitting down in time to watch Lady Gaga nab her songwriting award. Back at home, I got my supplies together—a new notebook, pens, etc—and mapped out tomorrow’s course.

I am ready.

-David Driscoll