Four of my six nights out in West Hollywood, I was on the dance floor at The Abbey. At one point, the bar was named one of the world’s best gay bars and it’s pretty easy to see why.
I had more than a few good nights at The Abbey, often ogling the go-go dancers with bodies too perfect to be true while getting high on poppers and spilling drinks by the DJ. I was a total mess and I loved it.
And even when my phone was stolen right out of my pocket on the dance floor, there was something disastrously fun about the bar. I put the phone down as a loss, because in all honesty: I was just having too much fun to care.