the Tommy|Zor era

This past summer, v2 and I took a vacation to California. While there were many sites to see and many beers to sample, I had only one objective: visit the Magic Castle.

For full information on the Magic Castle, click here.

Here’s the quick overview: It’s an exclusive club in West Hollywood. You must be a member, or get a guest pass from a member to gain entry. We had neither, but Zor is a man of many… errr… a few connections. Inside, one gets treated to an overpriced fancy dinner and a magic show. There’s also a formal dress code. More on why that is important later. In my opinion, it’s an upgraded version of The Gothic Castle from the show Arrested Development, but only by a sliver.

For whatever reason, I thought the Hollywood Sign would’ve been more epic.

Armed with a Dodge Caliber rental car with shitty gas mileage and Jill (aka Garmin GPS Jill) as our guide, we drove into LA. My failure to listen to Jill along meant us missing the turnoff to the entrance. However, my instincts are sharp and we arrived just fine. [v2 edit: Stop lying. You pulled over and waited for the GPS to re-calibrate]

Where we ended up after missing the driveway to the Magic Castle

We get there and I find out this place has a mandatory valet service. I asked them to set our car on fire and drive it to the bottom of the ocean. I promised I wouldn’t press charges or care. Obviously I was lying – I would so sue their ass for enough money to pay for the entire trip. I then proceeded to ask the guy how big of a tip he wanted to bring me back another car at the end of the night. The cost was actually very reasonable, but judgment kicked in and I realized the money could better be used for beer.

This street does not show up on GPS

Out of the car, it finally dawned on me. I’m finally here. I’ve always wanted to visit this place and here I am standing outside the door. Then shitty news hits: no pictures allowed on the inside. That was unacceptable, so I quickly came up with a plan. I told them I was there with Tommy v2! The plan backfired in a way I hadn’t anticipated. Instead of allowing me to take pictures, they all asked if they could take pictures with him. True story, I swear.

v2 not pictured - probably macking

The inside of the Castle was kickass. Sorry, let me rephrase. Inside of the Castle kicked fucking ass! There was a piano beside the bar that played music all on its own. In fact, you could request songs and it would play them. I’m a magician. I’ve been studying magic for over ten years and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how it worked. I told the piano I was from Canada and it played the national anthem. I told it to play Moonlight Sonata and it did so without hesitation. I am forced to conclude it was the devil’s work. Next time, I’m going to ask it to play Liszt’s B minor Sonata in reverse, skipping every other note. Let’s see what you got now you cursed piano of HELL!

Thankfully, the Gothic Castle allows pictures

Dinner taught me a valuable lesson. I had no idea what filet mignon was and since I was feeling upscale, I ordered up like I was an old pro. It’s a smaller, tenderer steak. Big deal! I looked over at v2 and envied him because his steak was bigger. Since I cannot finish this paragraph without digging myself a deeper grave after that comment, it’s going to end now.

There is no greater magician on this planet than GOB

Now I would like to share the highlight of the evening – the benefits of a formal dress code. I never thought I would see perfect 10s at a magic club in Hollywood. They were there all fancied up like it was their second wedding, but alas, so was I. No longer were we amongst a crowd of degenerate frat douchebags who only think they’re something special. We were the big swinging dicks of JT Marlin. Except of course, v2’s steak was bigger than mine, so I suppose he had a slight edge. I won’t, for privacy reasons, mention any details of the girls we may have taken home. Michelle and Sandra wouldn’t appreciate it. Besides, after one look at our car and it was over. I think the comment was, “You want to drive us home in a car with no power locks and worse gas mileage than a Ford F-150?” I swear that part was true.

Millions of screaming women - not pictured.

A trip to the Magic Castle wouldn’t be complete without a magic show. It was awesome. Yes, I still use the word awesome. The only disappointment was that nobody used “The Final Countdown” as a music selection. Watching the show, however, gave me a sense of joy and inspiration. I now know I am more than capable of being a performer at this club. Overall, two life goals changed at the end of the evening:

1 – Visit Magic Castle changed to Perform at Magic Castle.

2 – No more filet mignon. I want a bigger steak than v2.