|LAST WEEK MRS. NEWBIE and I ventured out to The Edison, the new-ish conventioneer/loft-dweller bar in downtown Los Angeles. When it turned out we were more hungry than we were fascinated with people falling on their asses before 8:00pm, we climbed out of the converted power plant and into this conversation with a sun-worn rumpled guy trolling Harlem Place Alley.|
Oh, I'm sorry. Were you paying me by the word? We ignored his editorial feedback and sauntered around the corner for a middling white pizza and a better-than-expected steak salad at Pitfire Pizza.Rumpled Guy: What's it like in there?
There. Can you work with that, Rumpled Guy?