Nicole Seymour Seymour wants to wish Papoose a happy March 8th next week. She loves him and their dear son Daniel. E-mail her at saintblue@hotmail.com.

According to conventional wisdom, college is supposed to be a drinker’s paradise. But after four years as a UCLA student, this is a paradise I have yet to discover. When I was still an underage drinker, I imagined that soon, I’d be barhopping near school every night, partying hard every weekend, and buying friends drinks like there was no tomorrow. Little did I know that, once I turned 21, not only would I not be able to afford this college “lifestyle,” but I really wouldn’t want to take part in it anywhere near this neighborhood.



When it comes to Westwood, the selection of fun, inexpensive bars is pretty much nil. Of course, there are alleged “college bars” like Maloney’s and Westwood Brewing Company (or “Brew Co,” as the kids say), but they’re not much for people on a budget, unless all you want to drink is pitchers of beer. In fact, judging by the amount of breweries and the frequency of frat parties, it would appear that most people in Westwood are only interested in drinking beer. Where are the true bars, the seedy joints that aren’t overcrowded, overpriced and underwhelming? Not here, apparently.

Even moving on to the undeniably hipper part of the Westside, West Hollywood, won’t help. In fact, there the situation seems to be much worse. You have to be prepared to spend around 40 bucks to get blitzed, almost half of what I make in a week with my part-time job. In fact, some of the prices at bars and hotels in West Hollywood and even Hollywood are obscene.

$12.50 for a Long Island Iced Tea at The Standard? I have to say, the one time I tried to order one, I laughed in the waitress’s face when she told me. Eight dollars for one at the Burgundy Room? Not outrageous but still pricey, especially for a somewhat scary dump that’s packed up to the walls.

  Illustration by Jarrett Quon/Daily Bruin It seems all the holes-in-the-wall, all the dives with charm that don’t cost extra are few and far between if you live west of Vine. Colorful drinking is simply sorely missing in this area of town, with the exception of one or two establishments in Santa Monica. So, what is the UCLA drinker who likes a cheap cocktail and a good old-fashioned time to do? The way I see it, there are two options. The one that doesn’t come with atmosphere is to just buy your own booze. It’s not as glamorous, it’s a bit more of a pain, and it often leads to semi or completely illegal activities. But sometimes it’s the only choice.

For real party animals (i.e. those of you who would not be content to sit home and drink), circumventing the party system with your own cachet can take on two forms. One is the party-to-go, which mainly consists of bringing the booze with you. Those who go this route have to be prepared. It helps to always have some plastic party cups in hand. That way, if you’re drinking in the car (not while driving, of course), you can go undetected, and you won’t end up breaking any glasses in a drunken stupor.

Drinking in parking lots or whatever house you end up at isn’t the only party-to-go option, though. You can still go to a bar or club and have a good time – you just get drunk first, somewhere, and then hit the bar. Now you’re ready for dancing, you have enough liquid courage to try to score and you haven’t shelled out any cash.

The other type of partying we pathetic buy-our-own types can pull off is the stealth party package, a.k.a. stashing the beer cans (or, if you’re really desperate, flask or thermos with mixed drink inside) in your purse or bag. This also lends itself to bar, as well as club and show auction, provided security doesn’t search you (and don’t blame me if they do.)

You may raise suspicion by being in the bathroom stall for 20 minutes while you chug, but at least then you’ll be ready to go and still have the cash flow. In fact, in some sleazier L.A. clubs, especially downtown, the proprietors themselves brownbag it, and they’ll merely wink and turn the other way when they catch on to your devious ways.

Occasionally, there’s yet another option: art show openings, which never charge entrance fees, almost always provide free alcohol to attendees and they rarely check IDs. If you’re a crafty (and poor) college kid like me, you can just check the paper to find out when and where an opening is going on, and show up at the gallery to drink.

Of course, sometimes there’s just no substitute for throwing back a couple at a bar, chewing on some green olives and then shamelessly and futilely trying to make friends or significant others out of the people sitting at the stools next to you. In this case, what we Bruins have to do is leave the land of West L.A. and start exploring other neighborhoods.

In my own adventurous pursuit of drink, I’ve found that Silverlake, Los Feliz, Echo Park and Atwater Village are all chock-full of cheap and fun joints where you can abuse your liver. And maybe the best part about these Eastside bars is that they come with personality, starting with their names. Imagine a bar called the Smog Cutter existing in Westwood Village. (What’s a Smog Cutter? I don’t know. But at least it’s more creative than Westwood Brewing Company.) Or imagine bars that feature free salty popcorn right out of the machine, punk rock jukeboxes and themed décor (such as a rustic cabin or a steamer ship) existing on the Westside.

I’ve found all sorts of these places once I ventured out of the UCLA radius – and I’ve saved a lot more money in the meantime. Granted, sometimes it takes a little effort to get out of Westwood when you’re “fiending” for a drink, but once you do, you’ll be reminded that the journey is worth it.

There you have it: Westwood may be a typical college town, but it’s not a great locale for the true drinker, who likes their booze cheap and their bars with a little atmosphere and a lot of character (and who won’t suffer the elitism of frat party guest lists).

So until we graduate from UCLA and move to where the drink is economical and the bars are jauntily named – or until we get “real” jobs – I guess we’ll have to keep beating the system by exploring other bar options, or just brownbagging it when we want a good time.