by Alyssa Ramos
The way that I was eagerly scanning the upstairs deck for the waitress was comparable to the anxious urgency of finding a misplaced iPhone, but it was an urgent matter, there was only ten minutes left in Happy Hour, and with the way we drink white wine, those ten minutes were vital. Finally one of the scantily dressed model-waitresses came bounding up the stairs to our table of six.
“Hi, can I have two of whatever your happy hour white wine is?” I asked before she could even ask what I wanted.
“Yeah, me too.” My roommate said from across the table.
“Sorry, we can only ring in one at a time-” She started apologetically.
“Ok then can we all have one and then can you come back in nine minutes?” I said seriously.
“Sure,” she laughed, “so six white wines, I’ll get those right out.”
It was definitely a better idea than our usual Taco Tuesday’s at Pink Taco – not only was the fading sun casting a glorious glow on Sunset Boulevard, but the cool crisp California air that was breezing freely through the open wooden deck of Pearl’s Liquor Bar made the perfect setting for our gathering of friends. Not to mention it was $1 Oyster Tuesday’s. Soon our table was overpopulated with oysters and wine glasses, which was available for the world to see due to our numerous obnoxious Instagram posts.
Bringing that many people together on a random Tuesday at 6:30pm in LA is typically unheard of due to everyone’s highly versatile schedules and the inevitable tendency to flake but I had somehow wrangled friends from three different circles, and the group even grew to to ten by the end of the night.
The much older man in a business suit with two much younger girls and a bottle of Moët on ice at the table next to us seemed to be getting irritated with our increasingly obnoxious conversations after the Oyster Shooters…most likely because one of the topics was how we can pay for our own meals and indirectly referring to his unbalanced party of three. I learned that I will never again attempt an Oyster Shooter, because not only will my brain not allow itself to accept swallowing a whole raw oyster as appetizing but also because the 1/3 cup of vodka hit me in the face like Chris Brown.
Like the menu says, “$1 Oysters Until We Run Out”, they ran out after we ate about six dozen of them, washed down with about five glasses of wine each. Pearls by far has the best Tuesday Club location…like seriously, how do you beat $1 oysters in a chic, classy, chill atmosphere? Needless to say I was fat and happy in bed by 10:30.
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