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Micky’s bar burned down over a year ago. This month, the newly renovated Micky’s reopened. Lots of frosted glass and steel, along with the requisite colored accent lighting, filled the place. I went with Dennis, along with Chelsea & Alistair, who had just moved into their new place in the Hollywood Hills. We just went to check the place out and see what had changed.

Chelsea was her typical gorgeous self.

We shuffled through the crowd to the patio. The dancers were lackluster, but if they were on heroin, I’ll apologize. The music was great, running through a mix of 90s grunge hits that made me nod my head and smile. Dennis was just happy to have a few drinks in him, and also to witness the rebirth of the first West Hollywood bar he went to.

Alistair, peach-colored shirt preppily collar-flipped, chatted up the gays, laying on the Scottish charm.

Johnny showed up and we made a quick stop at Steak Depot for a snack and to do a little iPhoning.

And Dennis wants to give up these spontaneous soirees for NYC?! All right, I don’t blame him. And I need a buddy in New York so I can visit more often.