We're pathologically social. We're professional leisurists. We're burrito lovers, bar flies, art whores and music nerds. We dish the good dirt, and we'll risk a parking ticket for a cheap sample sale. Sometimes, we blog drunk.
I wish they all could be California burgers
Recently went to check out The Counter, the gimmicky Santa Monica burger joint with the pencil-and-pad menu that's designed for ultimate consumer customization. More importantly, while waiting for the chefs to handcraft my burger, I spotted someone who looked an awful lot like Beach Boy Mike Love entering the joint with a female companion. He was wearing a black Hawaiian T-shirt and his signature “I’m bald… or am I?” hat. (He is.) Naturally, I tried to listen in on his conversation to see if he’d claim credit to a few more Beach Boys songs in the course of natural conversation.
My burger came (Delicious? Nah.). I continued eavesdropping. If it was Mr. Love, I’m proud he didn’t take credit for constructing my burger. On a scale of ‘Caroline, No’ to 'Good Vibrations,' I'd give the whole experience a 'God Only Knows.'
Because they're all names of Beach Boy songs.
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