Back to LA

I am going to summarize my LA trip in 20 words: 3 friends leave Vegas on a road trip to meet a prince, meet a goober and have a car towed.

10 words: Left Vegas, saw LA, met a goober, lost a car.

6 words: Bye Vegas--Hi LA--Bye car.
Click Here for Pictures of Day 1

Last weekend I went to LA with 2friends of mine: Monica and Andrea. When we left Vegas on a whim on Saturday afternoon, the day was bright, the sun was shining and the breeze was blowing gently in the wind. We had no idea that the next 48 hours would be wrought with a botched hotel reservation, a towed car totaling well over $200, a Serbian prince and an excrutiatingly painful march up and down Venice beach.

Having never seen LA before, of course I wanted to do all the corny touristy stuff: visit Hollywood (which, in actuality, should be called HollyHood as it is in the straight hood), tour Venice Beach, see where the OJ Simpson chase took place-you know, the norm. We woke up early on Saturday (Ok, I woke up early on Saturday--I was up, showered and dressed by like 8:00) and headed toward Venice Beach. On the way we stopped at a delightful farmer's market where we ate breakfast at a small french booth and bought fresh fruit. We were then off.

Venice Beach is the kind of place where a lot of weed smoking takes place. Weed smoking, inhalant sniffing, mushroom licking, pill popping, etc. Everyone there looked high--on something. But, these high people were incredibly nice and lovey--from the 60 year old woman wearing roller skates and skating to old house music to the very odd, leathery muscle man wearing leopard thongs who spends all of his time, evidently, wandering up and down the beach posing for pictures.

Venice beach is long. Very long. 26 miles long. Though we did not walk all 26 miles, we did walk a good 5. This stroll I'm going to refer to from this point forward as the death march. By the end my feet felt like sandpaper, my legs felt like rubber and my knuckles felt knuckled. I was tired. So we decided to find a place to eat dinner.

We ended up eating at a small seafood restuarant and were waited on by a very attractive gentleman whom--I"m convinced--is a Serbian Prince.

That night, we were too cheap to park in the $30 parking lot of the hotel. We parked on the street. The next morning, with a jaunty step in our feet, we made our way to the vehicle. It was missing. Thank you LAPD for your diligence and persistence in keeping the street free of cars between the hours of 2-4 am--which, evidently, is the only time street parking is not allowed.

The tow truck man--we'll call him Rufus--was missing several teeth and those that were still habitating in his mouth were covered in a shell of brown. I guess the tow truck company does not provide dental insurance. Before we got to the tow yard, we called and got the price from the receptionist. When we got there, Rufus saw us and added an additional $70 to the price. After being cussed out by two of us (I won' say which 2--gotta keep some secrets), Rufus refused to give us the car. After being sweet talked by one of us (I won't say which 1--it's too embarassing), Rufus released the car for the original price--plus $70. Click here for pictures of day 2.

Hollywood (ahem, HollyHood) was a big disappointment. All I will say is what you see on TV is not what really is. Oh well. I'll keep my movies in my dreams.

I was glad to get home. The weekend was way to eventful for a belle like me.

*M*