The thing with tequila is, deciding that it’s the proper course of action is always preceded by consuming copious amounts of other, less rambunctious spirits. And the other thing with tequila is, it’s never, actually, the proper course of action. But leave it to 18-year-old guys from California to convince you otherwise.
Thus, I find myself at Anomali with the biggest and most delicious iced coffee that they’ve probably ever served, feeling like a criminal in a town full of temple bodies. And actual temples.
This story really begins with clean eating. And “detoxifying.” A loosely laid plan that was swiftly abandoned at the utterance of “balcony with pillows.” Or maybe it was “wine.” It was Sunday, after all. And I reasoned that the most enlightened humans in history surely reached that state under the watch of some Bacchus variant. No? Continue reading