Out with the four L's for a lipstick call. Stopped by the Frenchy Zinc for some vino, then stumbled down the perfectly manicured, palm tree-lined, sparkly lit, Disneyland-like Kierland street to Ocean Club to help newly single Louise find a man. The place was humming with the beautiful people of Scottsdale (including lots of desperate, lonely ones, too). Never one to enjoy the pick-up scene, I focused on my girlfriend duties and spotted a potential guy - Hollywood producer-type, brown bomber jacket, jeans, full head of hair (grey). She chatted him up a bit then realized he was too full of himself and turned to sit on Laurel's pick's lap - nice, Midwestern, kind of pasty and balding and, oh yeah, married (at least he admitted it). We gave up and moved on to the the next theme park ride for a little umbrella in the drink at Tommy Bahamaville before designated drivering it home.
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