the last day

The Hudson’s version of an Englishmen's club is anything but traditional. Don't let those Haunted Mansion fake books fool you, we are not here to read, we're here to play and this is what we're doing.

There's no doubt about it, the grape Fanta pool table, as I’ll call it, is the centerpiece and “she” knows it (I don’t know why, but with those solid legs and dressed in that color, the table definitely looks like a gallega lady just coming out of mourning). Hanging above “her” is an oversized domelike lamp providing just enough light to showcase this solid purple beauty. Long gone are the days of drunken commoners playing pool at their favorite seedy joint.

But nothing is more suitable for a place that once hosted the Sesame Street studio than the fifteen black and white pictures of coquette cows donning their best Sunday hats. Forget the coffee table books here and there, with those black and white chubby girls who can look at anything else?!?

Champagne flows by the bottle and lively conversation is enhanced by Amir, the always engaging host tending to our every need. It’s a shame that there's no time to visit Mogadore, suggested by our newly acquired friend as the best Moroccan restaurant in the city. But don't worry dear friend, as the now Governor of California once said: "I'll be back".

Warning: If the room temperature is low and you’re only dressed in your underwear, it’s NOT a good idea to sit on the custom made aluminum chair to blog. Hey Phillippe Stark, can you say butt-freeze??