New Low: Pocket Rockets

Hey guy, when's blastoff?

When animals gather and harvest, it's for provisions to live on through a harsh and barren winter. That translated to Red Bull on Tuesday for our friend here who hoarded as much as he could stow away on his person, not at a free-for-all BYOB house party situation, but at a nightclub with full service bar. Evidently it did not occur to him that walking around all night at Animal in beverage-stuffed pants is not a good look, nor will it win him any points with the ladies... Even a generous act like offering the girl he fancies one he's been keeping nice and warm for her against his ass would not help his case.

No Red Bull wings here, only pocket rockets. Ground control to Major Tom: someone who felt it necessary to walk around like this at a nightclub where rationing has not yet been implemented and there's no shortage of drinks has had enough Red Bull for the night.

Send Us Your New Lows! (...Or Highs)

Have you experienced or bore witness to a new low in L.A. nightlife?  Did you see someone pick a cigarette up off the nightclub's bathroom floor and put it back in their mouth? Was there a particularly unpleasant encounter with the doorman at a bar? Tell us! We want your stories from last night. Send us your New Lows (or New Highs) to emily.green@guestofaguest.com.