Johnny puked next to a pay phone outside the bar.

We'd been in Hollywood all of four hours. I'd had a drink but J was on a mission. We'd come out to visit our buddy Artemus who was stuck at work. Artemus was a Production Assitant on a TV show. He was currently in Burbank waiting for an editor to complete that week's episode of Truth or Scare. It was one of those piece of shit reality shows that no one liked but that everyone watched. It didn't seem like Artie was gonna be able to meet up with us before bar close so the plan was to drive back over the hill and just wait for him at his apartment in No Ho.

Johnny puked out the window as we passed the Hollywood Bowl. One thing about puking out the window of the car is that the vomit never clears the vehicle, ever. J left a stream of Chicken Parmigiana along the passenger side of my old accord before passing out. A few minutes later I pulled into do it yourself car wash. I spent a few bucks and pressure sprayed the car clean. Then I locked the doors to the vehicle and grabbed a couple of fresh cake donuts from the Winchell's accross the street. Johnny wasn't going anywhere.