Cracking the Clubbing Code

Next door, the Korean barbecue restaurant is packed, though no longer serving alcohol, and outside, kids are hanging in front of the 7-Eleven, smoking, talking, reviewing the night: “Kar Nak, man, that was dope.” All but one little storefront in the adjacent mini-mall is closed and dark. But Vaskia Karaoke is still going strong. The owner, perhaps the friendliest and most spirited person up at this hour in Los Angeles, welcomes me inside, gesturing proudly down the long, narrow hallway with jet-black walls lined in plush zebra print and bathed in fluorescent purple light. “Please come back,” he urges after a quick tour. “We serve nine nations — Korean, Chinese, American . . .” Then he whips out his card and adds with a bright smile: “Open 24 hours. We never close.”

Fifth Car, 6 a.m., it goes without saying: bed.