Out and about in LA
Sunday, November 6th, 2005So I was talking with Mike today, and we agreed that one of the best things about living in Los Angeles is that folks like us just kind of fade into the landscape. In most places, a little bit of eccentricity can be a liability. In LA, it’s more like an entrance requirement. People here are fun, laid back, quirky, and mostly fearless. It’s home to a huge population who’d otherwise be considered a little odd (file under “artsy fartsy” or “creative type”).
And there are so many wonderful unique little pockets, all over. Think Mexicali in Studio City, where the beautiful undiscovered people go for the best fajitas and margaritas in LA, or for the screenwriter set, there’s Aroma, a cafe/bookstore hybrid with the side benefit of friendly, talented, and great-looking staff, any of whom might burst out with an aria or a pop song at any moment. These places have been a bit harder to find in West LA, but finding them is so worth it. (I’ll save you some time here, Ray makes the world’s best drip coffee and almond steamers over at Cafe Balcony).
For one reason or another, we’ve been spending a lot of time up and down the Wilshire corridor lately, around and about Rodeo Drive. It’s not like the Crate and Barrel on Beverly carries anything that’s different from any other Crate and Barrel, but when you’ve got the choice between lunch on Rodeo or battling the madding crowds of the Grove, well… I don’t really mind great shops with good service. Plus, the homeless in Beverly Hills are way more polite.
I’m not alone in this preference, either. Just so you know, two weeks ago, that was totally Paris Hilton driving her silver Bentley down Wilshire. Living in LA does things to your mind, causes you to recognize things people in other parts of the world simply don’t notice. In this case, the thought process went: OOoo, pretty silver Continental GT… two blonde chicks inside, the driver has a half dissolved red lollipop in one hand. HEY, that’s Paris Hilton! Paris Hilton likes RED LOLLIPOPS. There’s a world of rude commentary that could be made, but I’m going to take the high road, here. After all, I like red lollipops too.
Friday night, Mike and I found ourselves in Beverly Hills again. We couldn’t resist stopping in the Williams-Sonoma there. We wandered in to look at the apple peelers. See, at the end of the day, one apple peeler is a lot like the next apple peeler. You can buy one at any Williams-Sonoma. You can even order one online. They’ll be the same, the whole world over. But then, the difference is in the story surrounding that apple peeler, and that’s the thing you won’t get at the Williams-Sonoma in Skokie (sorry Tarpy).
After shutting down the store, we wandered out onto the sidewalk, and headed towards the garage. We found ourselves right behind a pretty typical sight in Beverly Hills. Two nearly identically dressed blondes, one taller, with simply jaw-dropping hair extensions, both walking arm-in-arm with a hunk of man candy. Walking’s perhaps not quite the right word, but they were in… a very good mood, and they were even able to stay mostly upright.
The trio found their way into the elevator with us. Lots of cooing and giggling. Another woman hopped on, in the middle of a cellphone conversation. I was laughing to myself at how very stereotypically LA the entire scene was, when suddenly the taller blonde broke away from her crew, and announced to the entire elevator:
“Ohhhhhh! I’vvvvvvvvvvve beeeennnnnnnnnnnnnnnaaaahhh… verrrrrrrrrrry! baaaaaaaaad…… girrrrrrrrrrrl!”
That was a moment.
The woman with the cellphone falls silent. Thinks me, “Wow, she sounds JUST like Anna Nicole. I’ve never heard anyone else in the world who talks like that. I really wonder what drugs someone who sounds like that must use. ”
The elevator stops, and the trio flounce away.
The woman is now holding her cellphone at her side. Time has stopped. She looks at us and says “Was that?? Was that Anna Nicole?”
Of course, that was Anna Nicole. No one else in the world DOES talk like that. So maybe she went a little overboard with the Trimspa; despite the fantastic hair, she was looking a lot more teenaged Muriel Hemingway than hot Guess Jeans girl, but let’s face it, she’s got enough star power to stop a cellphone conversation totally cold.
And in this city, that still means something.
