Sometimes my husband makes noises about moving somewhere quiet, calm, and slow. He’s talked about Pasadena, the Valley, and even other states. There are times when I think I want to move too, but when I reaaaally picture it, I get claustrophobic. Open spaces can be confining in their own way.
I hate the smell of pee on my shoes as much as the next gal, but with that price comes all the diversity and eccentricity of downtown Los Angeles. As I write this, I am sitting in a booth next to these two odd… I don’t know what their phylum would be. They are the guys Quentin Tarantino depicts as the hired guns in his movies, minus the black suits. They are talking at sewing machine speed and about 75% of the language is blue.
Who did they just kill? Who are they about to kill? Who are they? Mr. Pink? Mr. Camouflage-with-a-picture-of-Che-Guevara-on-the-back?
Okay, here’s the scoop. One of them is trying to decide whether or not to accept the acting job he’s just been offered. His friend keeps saying something about looking like “&$% Adrian Brodyâ€. This is where he’s losing me because he’s black. Isn’t Adrian Brody white? Who is Adrian Brody?
I bet they live in the Eastern Columbia building. That building is sort of like the 3rd Street/Grove of downtown. The oh-I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-and-my-fauxhawk-looks-like-this type. I don’t like actors and, from my experience, actors don’t like me. I’d like to think I initiated my distaste for them, but that doesn’t sound like my m.o. If I know me, and I think I do, the rift began with a snub. But enough about me.
Here’s my theory: Longhair arrived from Indiana three months ago. His sister has a cousin who’s dog’s owner is best friends with the mother of this guy that robbed a lady who has casually become acquainted with a fellow who serves coffee to an agent who has “loads of connections in Hollywood! LOADS!†So, Chacha, the agent, calls asking if he’s interested in starring in an Odor Eaters commercial. Since it all came so fast and easy for him, he’s on the fence.
Fauxhawk is from upstate New York and he’s been in the biz for about 8 years. He knows a good thing when he sees it. So he’s telling his friend to “Snap this ****ing thing the **** up!â€
They were debating it all last night until they got too drunk to talk anymore. Longhair made out with the bartender and Fauxhawk passed out underneath the third booth on the left. This morning, they woke up on a median wearing sombreros. They have no idea how they got there. But they were hungry, so they went to grab a bite. And our paths crossed.
Jeez, my life is so boring.
I wish I could join them.
Does that make me curious or lonely?
But enough about me
Photo courtesy of Aislinn Ritchie on Flickr
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