by Winnie S. on Is it just me or is L.A. getting 'bigger'? Not that I am hating. I certainly cannot say I don't sport a double, maybe triple roll after a hearty Grand Slam breakfast at Denny's. In fact, I welcome a bit of muffin-top and double chin with open arms. Live a little, America! A tad of chub in the grubline never hurt nobody. Or has it? It has, America. It has. There I was, feeling rather like an Amish grandmother in my jeans and blouse as waves of scantily-clad large women made their way to the downtown Mayan nightclub. Scantily-clad in the sense that tube top shirts now qualify as dresses, visible thong-lines are the norm, and spandex-y cloth that covers anything past the crotch-line just isn't trendy enough. I call them 'large' and not 'voluptuous', because there is a clear difference between chunks and curves. And this was just chunk. Chunk as in, I-grew-up-on-the-McDonald's-#1-combo-supersized chunk. As in, my-primary-form-of-exercise-is-walking-from-the-so fa-to-the-fridge chunk. As in, don't-mess-with-me-or-I'll-sit-on-you-with-one-but tcheek-and-send-you-to-the-ICU chunk. Like I said before, I am not hating. However, when you start humping the wall with your rear end perched North, knowing full well that your 'dress' has ridden up far past your booty-line and yet you do not give a crap, exposing your funky chunky self completely to groups of gaping, drunk men, that's when I start the hateration. I did not pay fifteen dollars to view your birthing canal under flashing white lights. I did not drive twenty miles to see you and your inebriated female girlfriends dry-humping the sticky floor with your legs spread at obtuse angles. I understand that an LA club venue will not be laden with anorexic bourgeoisie clientele sipping on champagne and nibbling on low-calorie cheeses. But por favor, don't turn the dance floor into a Lane Bryant strip club orgy! It is not pleasant for the eyes. And maybe it just so happens to be that the larger, less-attractive women feel the need to over-compensate for their low self-esteem by showing up the other girls in such a fashion...but this isn't the way to do it. Go get a degree. Bake a souffle. Peer-review a research article. Just keep expanding your mind and not your legs and maybe you'll see less of my wincing, uncomfortable face. That is all.
by Chris R. on Nice restaurant for the price. We went to TOP FLR Friday night. We had a reservation and we were about 15 minutes late and they nearly gave our table away. This is a small restaurant, so I would recommend making a reservation and being on time (unlike us). The menu is short and to the point. The food selections are fairly basic, but all done to exacting standards. We had the tuna tartar appetizer and it was delicious. For my entree, I ordered the roasted chicken and a side of Mac and Cheese. The mac and cheese was awesome. They blend a little bit of spinach and some kind of hot sauce in the cheese and it makes for a nice, rich side that gives any meat dish a comfort food feel. The service was decent, but not great. I think the size of the restaurant makes it a little hard for the staff to move around. I was impressed with the menu prices though. Entrees ranged from $10-$20, but they are served al-a-carte. There were 4 of us, all drinking adult beverages, and our bill was $145. Not bad for an upscale place.
by Mark Heavilin on It sucked. 1. Only two single women's bathroom. Waited in line FOREVER to pee...twice. 2. DJ def. does not play anything new, therefore I didn't know alot of the songs. i think he played songs from when I was 10...or before i was born. 3. The crowd...a little older than I'd like...lots of girls with big purses hogging up space on the dance floor. and lots of exaggerated dancers...hogging up the LITTLE bit of space on the dance floor. 4. Drinks took FOREVER. All in all, lots of standing around and not alot of dancing. Oh, the fans were nice.
