Saki! Saki! Saki! Bomb!

Before I get into this blog, I would like to introduce myself. I am Kerri and am lucky enough to be sharing a bed with RMoore throughout this trip.

So we are craving Sushi. After what seems like a trillion hours, we FINALLY get our shit together, get dressed and head out of the hotel room. After getting lost 17 times on the way to the lobby, we finally hail a taxi. Lucky for us our driver is asian. We ask him for a sushi restaurant recommendation in Manhattan Beach and he drops us off at what looks like a great one, Fusion. Our waiter is the cutest little asian guy I have ever seen and I immediately develop a crush. Feeling extremely jetlagged, all we are doing is arguing with each other. Our solution is to begin drinking heavily. We order saki bombs. It was my very first one. I loved it.

My asian crush informs us that there is a service button on the table to press for immediate assistance. I think this idea is genius. Every place should have one. We press the service button several times and go through 4 bottles of saki. We no longer hate each other. We loved the sushi and we loved each other so much we are going back there for dinner again tonight. The fact that 2 of the bottles of saki were complimentary adds to the appeal.

Our itinerary had us going to a place called Sharks Cove for the partying. We walk by and it looks DEAD. We decide that this is definitely NOT an option. We then hail a taxi and head to Hermosa Beach to find a happening bar scene with lots of eligible men. I am taking in the scenery when I almost have a heart attack and die. I heard the most blood curdling shrill scream come from the backseat. Immediately I turn around and incur about what was going on. There is something in the cab's backseat. Something scary. My mind goes straight to thinking it is some sort of rodent...a rat. The cab pulls over so fast he almost sideswiped 17 people, 4 parked cars and a parking meter. All of the cab doors fly open before the vehicle has come to a complete stop. I look in the backseat and all the commotion was over a moth. I almost died over a moth. We get back in and continue on.

Upon our arrival in Hermosa we immediately locate the hotspot. Sharkeez. Even after 49 saki shots the devil alcoholism makes us order more. We chose cherrybombs and beers. We instincively place ourselves next to a group of men which was easy because the place was a sausagefest. I start chatting it up with an attractive gentlemen. After about 3 minutes Corrine informs me he was wearing a wedding ring. What happens next was probably the best comment I have ever heard. "Sir, are you married," I ask. He tells me that he is and he comes up with some bullshit shit. "Well can you get out of here because you are obstructing my view of the single men." Thank you Corrine for that unforgettable and completely appropriate comment. He walks away in shame.

We then meet up with an old college friend Aaron Bernard. He takes us to a place called Fat Face Fenner's Fishack, aka FFFF. Hearing the name of this place, I knew I was in for a good time. They have karaoke. I decide Rachel is singing. She chooses a Beatles classic...ob la di, ob la da. The crowd goes crazy for her and she is an instant hit.