Who Goes Out on a Tuesday Night?

My dear old friend Walter is in town for a few days from the east coast and I got a chance to see him last Tuesday night. He came by after 10 p.m., which was already past my schoolnight bedtime. Since I don't get to see him much, I decided I could sacrifice some sleeping time. First we went to the Edendale Grill, where we both had a cocktail in the restaurant's patio, under a heat lamp, surrounded by a more sophisticated, subdued crowd. We found a chance to chat and catch up on things we've both been up to. After some 30 minutes, we decide we wanted a second drink, but chose to go somewhere different, and somewhere more... hmm...gay! Instead of the usual Akbar, where we always end up, I suggested MJ's on Hyperion Avenue, next to the Trader Joe's. Walter, a native Angeleno who's lived in the east coast for almost 10 years, had never heard of it. I told him, "It's where Woody's used to be." When we walked in there, we were shocked to find a huge crowd, a $6 cover at the door, and a dozen almost-naked go-go boys gyrating everywhere in the bar. The d.j. was playing everything from Madonna to Kanye West to The Pussy Cat Girls. The men were hot, everywhere you looked. It was fun, but it was almost too much. Walter and I laughed the whole time. This whole scene felt more like West Hollywood on a Friday night, or some tacky bar in Chelsea or something...
After 30 minutes, we decided we had had our fun, and had had enough. Walter was sweet enough to remind me that I needed to get up early the next morning. We both reminisced about earlier times in our younger years when we were able to party and go out nightly. Get drunk. Dance all night. Hook up. Go to work or school the next morning. "Not anymore!" we both agreed.