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So I had plans to check out LA-based photographer Gregory Bojorquez’s current exhibit at my favorite neighborhood bar East Side Luv www.eastsideluv.com, but between finishing up writing assignments on a warm Saturday afternoon while everyone else was out playing in the sun and battling I-don’t-feel-like-going-out syndrome, I pretty much called it a night. That is, until my Mom called and said her and my sister were in the Garment District and wanted to roll through my place to say what’s up.

I did what I always do when family’s coming inside my apartment – no, not hide the weed; they could care less – make sure my vibrator isn’t anywhere visible in my room and condom wrappers aren’t floating on top of my trash can. With that checked, I sat back down in front of my Mac and continued to write on deadline.

Mom and Carly made themselves at home, despite the fact that we had just gotten in a huge fight the week before after I offended my sister’s boyfriend by saying he’s a loser for going to prom with her when he already graduated. It was just like old times: Carly raided my closet, I let her have the clothes that no longer fit me (sadly), and my Mom washed my dishes.

I mentioned the photo exhibit to my Mom, who actually used to take her lunch breaks with Greg (he and my cousin were homeboys back in the day so is a family friend). She was down to check out the last 30 minutes of the opening reception so I threw on a pair of black leggings and a T-shirt, ignoring that website ww.TightsAreNotPants.com, and applied some of my new favorite red lipstick by Tarte.

We drove past Mariachi Plaza, where some really handsome mariachis were waiting for work, in next-to-be-gentrified Boyle Heights and parked outside the red doors that open up to East Side Luv. Bouncers were carding and my sister’s only 18. We asked the very large, but nice bouncer if she could come in with us just to check out the art and he said he would ask the manager, who ended up saying no. My sister stayed outside while my Mom and I went in to check out the photos.

Inside were about 20 people – 10 of which were women from the photos – sitting around a bar plastered with pornographic images of women wearing pretty much nothing. It was the kinda scene, too, where you walk in and are pretty much on Front Street. And it wasn’t the images of beautiful women flaunting what their mama’s gave ‘em that bugged me. It was the fact that I was there with my mama! It would’ve been fine had I been with the homies or even my boo, but I was with my Mom and we were staring at naked pictures of women. Together. Awkward!

I looked at my Mom and through tightly sealed lips said, ‘Let’s find the back door and leave already,’ even though I had no idea where the back door was. But sure enough, I found a door in the back of the bar – which ended up being the emergency one and set off an alarm – and was safe and sound outside; both of us laughing so hard there were tears in our eyes when we got back to where Carly was standing.

Moral of story: Take flyers seriously. I mean, it said “All Chicks” and they sure weren’t talkin’ ‘bout no birds!

Check out Greg's work at www.mugshotphotography.com and at East Side Luv though July 5, 2008. 1835 East First St., Boyle Heights, 323-262-7442.

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