Forty-five minutes after my guests failed to arrive or call, I stood up from the lounge area of Michael's (well documented to be my favorite restaurant in all of Los Angeles), and decided to sit at the bar and tell the bartender that "I just remembered: I'm hungry, and my legs work." He let me have my drink for free, the tallest Irish coffee ever seen, with the freshest whip cream ever made for such a drink. The hostess led me to a large table in the center of Michael's famed patio, at which I remarked that I'd look awful lonely there, and could she just put me off to the side instead.

I picked a hell of a night to start drinking again.

I started the day in Calabasas, and managed to bike my way all the way to Temescal Canyon on the PCH, at which point I picked up the boardwalk bike path and made an easy trek into Santa Monica. For the day, I was living in the Fairmont, a very fine hotel right on Ocean Avenue. I've always spoiled myself with hotel rooms. If you're going to rest, rest well.

After dropping off my things in my very large room in the Fairmont, I packed up my iPod and headed down to the Promenade for a day of shopping. I wound my way through to the farmer's market, where I munched on some dried sweet apricots before spending most of my money at the Gap and Banana Republic. I came back, took a nap, and donated money to KCRW during their membership drive. (They really were important for helping me maintain my sanity during five months incarcerated.)

I walked into Michael's armed with new clothes and my new Angel wings, and while waiting in the lounge, I watched a woman, already visibly drunk, hauling in her shopping bags and asking the bartender for a glass of chardonnay. A few moments later, someone I would identify as the nanny and the drunk's son arrived. After the trio left, the bartender shared my sentiment when he wished that kid all the freakin' luck in the world. Quick thoughts of five months' worth of AA meetings flashed before my eyes: I then panned over to my own drink. Served in a large bordeaux glass, the coffee was fresh brewed, the whip cream made just moments before, and the whiskey strong. It works if you work it.

Dinner deserves its own post...