it was nice to be there without having to elbow though crowds, although there was only one place open and serving breakfast. that's okay though, one is better than none!
vietnamese iced coffee for him, iced cafe mocha for me. each served with a little bakery bite that was a little taste of creme brûlée.
this was his farmer's omelet - spinach, mushrooms, goat cheese, garlic.
i opted for the newporter: ham, cheese, sunny-side-up eggs and béchamel sauce on a baguette slice.
he loves taking pictures with me. heh.
i don't even remember how we ended up here, but somehow we did. from anaheim to...venice beach!
muscle beach is always quite the spectacle.
we decided to walk off our breakfast and check out all the touristy stuff along the way.
this guy would type out a poem on his manual typewriter for you for a mere $2.
and here you could get some free legal advice. sounds legit.
oh, and hey - if you needed some medical marijuana, for $40 the doctor is IN.
looks like there was some sort of war going on here.
and then, for next time, we learned the hard way not to leave even a smidgen of space in front or behind the car when we parked it. the hub is a damn good driver, but getting out of here was quite the challenge even for him. this guy wedged his truck in front of us:
and this vespa decided to squeeze in the spot behind us.
inside, we found where shaq keeps his stash of sticks. well, at least one stash, anyway.
and when we headed out the side entrance, we came upon this group of party people who were anxiously standing around, waiting for the guy allowing folks in to notice them.
we stopped at lula cocina to grab some drinks and nachos:
i found one last photo op:
and then we headed home, where i crashed in front of the tv and the hub headed out to the lounge to enjoy his cigar.
aren't day dates the best??