LA's Hottest Club Is:
You're going to have to read past this subtitle to find out
This past week I had the opportunity to frequent one of East Hollywood’s more exclusive haunts: The Hollywood Presbyterian Emergency Room. Before you get too worried about my corporal form, I should share that the grievous harm that put me there was consuming a pickled jalapeno. Like many of my medical emergencies it boils down to “undiagnosed IBS” and I was discharged with a bill of health so glowing it could’ve been written by Trump’s doctor.
“Hollywood Presbyterian Emergency Room?” you ask. “On a Sunday afternoon?” you also ask. I know, I know—how did I get into such a hot venue? I can’t say this will work for everyone, but I was lucky enough to get a referral from my local urgent care. If you do try this tactic, it’s important to find an urgent care that lacks basic lab equipment! Otherwise, you will just be treated there, discharged, and never have the pleasure of darkening the Hollywood Presbyterian Emergency Room’s doors.
Speaking of the doors—they’re hard to find! In fact, the signs stating “EMERGENCY” specifically directed us to a dead-end parking lot right next to the emergency room which is a nice touch. This means only the most self-selecting ill will find their way in. You can’t have every sick person who needs help visiting your emergency room!
You’ll also find that the hospital is currently undergoing a costly renovation project that supposedly will make it more modern and “up-to-date” but in the humble opinion of a lot of patrons (myself included) will do away with its retro charms, like inadequate seating, broken vending machines, and dust.
Like anywhere worth its salt (hopefully not rubbed in your wounds!) there’s going to be a wait to get into the Emergency Room proper. Based on my experience, I’d budget three hours to six days. The good news is that much like Disneyland, the Hollywood Presbyterian Emergency Room has arranged an array of spectacles to delight you while you wait (provided your pain isn’t debilitating). There’s a tasteful spattering of coughing people without masks (hello Halloween!), a fun trick to get you to seek the “outdoor waiting area.” And that locale is gorgeous, consisting of some plastic chairs scattered around an awning. The chairs are wisely not under the awning itself, ensuring hefty sun exposure and a healthy tan or sunburn once you finally make it inside!
In the outdoor waiting area, you’ll be able to observe the comings and goings of other patrons. Sunday afternoon, according to the guy who takes your blood, is a pretty slow day at Hollywood Presbyterian Emergency Room. If you really want to get in on the heavy action your best bet is a Saturday night or even better a Monday morning, which was surprising to me, but then again, I’m aging out of the scene!
Exciting VIPs include an ambulance arriving with a police car. When the occupants disembark from their respective vehicles, the situation doesn’t seem truly urgent. Everyone is chatting fairly normally. Typical! There’s nothing that special about the people who make it past the velvet rope (in this case, a set of automatic doors). They just know the right people. The phalanx embarks towards the inner sanctum. This might be the only recorded moment in history when the criminal justice system made things more efficient.
After so much time has passed you wonder if you’re still alive you finally get called into the club. It’s very personalized! They yell your name and check it against a very cool wristband issued early in your visit. Maybe they do know what they’re doing in there…
When you finally get inside, after watching your fellow waiters pace and moan in frustration, you are directed to a chair behind a curtain. You are asked if you want a blanket and you decline, which you’ll regret in a moment because it’s freezing in there. Also, everything is so overpriced—you should take the freebies when they’re offered! You look around to see who else has made it in, but a lot of people are sequestered on VIP stretchers and hard to get a good look at.
Several employees ask “Did you do urine?” which turns out is not code for a club drug but a pretty direct question about whether you peed into a cup. You say yes every time because you did pee into a cup earlier. You did it in a bathroom that is so exclusive you have to ask a security guard to unlock it!!!
You try to enjoy your time inside Hollywood Presbyterian Emergency Room but the truth is with all of these things once you’re there you’re pretty much ready to go home. And luckily you’re discharged with some paperwork telling you to eat fiber, leaving your fellow patrons behind to stay there until the early morning hours.
Once home, you contemplate the sign that was pasted to a pillar near your chair imploring you to rate your experience on Yelp. A Yelp review? Absolutely not. The place was swamped as it is, no need to blow up the spot even more. After all, you’re eager to check it out on a Monday morning and see how crazy it can get…