601 S. Fairfax Avenue

     Now I am not one for extravagance, nor do I enjoy grand banquet halls with parking lots full of overly priced cars where doors slide upwards justifying the price to be $100,000 more than what you would like to pay. Yet in the midst of all extravagance, it is impossible to not fall into the pit of luxury every now and then, which is why if ever in the process of planning a Gatsby-style party, I would select the venue to be, obviously, the largest, grandest, most extravagant palace known to man, found at none other than 601 S. Fairfax Ave. Los Angeles, CA 90036, the Beverly Hills 99 Cent Store; and let me tell you why that is. When given the opportunity for endless possibility, not locked within the confines of money, one may automatically err towards the most expensive, the grandest, the largest. These bore me considerably. What interests me however, is irony, of which is found in no greater amounts than that which lies in the 99 Cent Store, which will be rented out to me and my guests. And with this, every item in the store, now being rented, will essentially be free. And frankly, I used to find no larger fascination than that of the concept of a store where everything is 99 cents. Well now, it is all free for my guest to enjoy, to bathe in pools of bad-quality office supplies, brooms that Armenian grandmas always seem to have, and borderline expired food. Now the guest list should remain interesting. At first I considered public invitations, announcements to let all know, yet found boredom in that, a lack of surprise in announcing the presence of a party in the store. And so I decided to leave my guests uninvited, as they themselves will have indirect invitations, being that my guests will be regular shoppers of the store, walking in innocently on a quiet, seemingly casual Friday night, merely to purchase a potted cactus and make their way home with no bother to anyone, only to be shocked at the presence of balloons and confetti paraded onto them as they step into the store while the amplified voices of all the guests screech "SURPRISE" loudly, doing their best to be heard over the deafening music of 80s contemporary rock to which the entire building vibrates. After all, there is no better party than one which is a surprise.

     It is here, amongst all this booming fun, where the party can take a turn towards overly fussy and complicated. I do not desire gold-studded macaroons or caviar. I do not want steak or lobster, or a long list of food that cannot be pronounced by many. And as I stop to think about my menu, I find myself in the food aisles of the 99 Cent Store. How perfect! What better food to serve my guests than that which lies around us? And I am sure all of it is organic, or most of it at least, or maybe 17% of it; the point is, great quality food! And drinks, only the best for my guests; the finest, most extravagant, beautifully aged 99 cent wines, all other alcohol in those beautifully portioned mini bottles of which hundreds lay in the store, and only the freshest ice-cold juices from cans. Now that the food is covered, entertainment is at hand. And as the stores next door come barging in with complaints on the volume of the 80s rock that continues to blast from the stereo system we kindly borrowed from the store, I do not hear them as the music is very loud. I assume they are here to compliment me on my party, give them a huge hug, and let them in. Well into the night, the music is beginning to bore me, especially since it is the same song being played over and over again. Although the song was "U Can't Touch This", that is still no excuse. So I did what anyone in my position would have done. I called over one of those Armenian DJ's that plays the same five songs over and over again at Armenian sweet-sixteens and weddings (both held at the same banquet halls), and knew that this party was well under way. Now I had a list of performers I wanted to invite to sing, but most of them were dead. There had to be another option; so I thought, "What is the next best thing to people? Clowns", and so I called some over. Now all humans all the time are quite boring, and so I decided a few dozen chickens running around the place would suffice, considering several shelves had been knocked down by all the dancing and there was plenty of room now for the chickens to graze freely. At about 3 a.m. when we were about halfway into our festivities, I decided to bring the 2-ton disco ball down, and believe it or not, more of the lovely neighbors from across the street had come to join (I assumed that is why they came over, I could not hear them again, although their faces seemed quite angry but I assumed it was because they had not found out about the party sooner). I hugged them once more and let them in.

     It was nearing the end of the night (and the hours of my rent of the store) at around 5 a.m. I looked around at the knocked down shelves and shattered wine bottles everywhere, the disco ball of which half was pulverized on the floor, and the large shattering of the glass in the window of the store which I assume had been caused by the Superman impersonator I had called over at about 3:30 a.m.; I do not remember much. Anyways, what I am trying to say is that the store was not in the "exceptionally clean with not a single item out of place" condition that was written on my rental contract and that I had agreed to with the manager, and I had to think of a way of explaining this. Yet on second thought, I was quite tired, and noticed the DJ still dancing and playing music, not realizing that everyone was asleep. And so I went over and offered him the rent saying that he could do whatever he wanted with the place and it was all his. He seemed very excited, though I am not sure why, considering the rent ended at 5:30 a.m. and the manager had just pulled up in front of the store as I exited and made my way to eat some breakfast. I think I wanted pancakes.

after-hours

 at my party, you will be greeted with a SMILE

 people waiting in line to enter my party

 fresh

the balloons scream "party"