The second day of my Hollywood adventure! In the last twenty-four hours, I’ve walked down Hollywood Blvd, which has all th stars in it (I haven’t heard of half the actors, but a couple of ’em were familiar.) had a truly fabulous cheeseburger (They sold Kobe beef burgers. Good lord.) seen more black Land Rovers than I knew existed in the world, (and not a wildebeest or savannah for miles) listened to a relative stranger’s account of a night of passion with a reasonably famous actor, (Don’t ask. Please, please, don’t ask.) and gone to a doggy boutique that really did sell jeweled collars and other upscale canine acoutrements. (My host has a small, charming Pomeranian named Sandwich, who is chewing delicately on my toes as I blog.)
The desperately surreal quality of all this was threatening to overwhelm me, I gotta admit. I mean, I dropped by a mall to buy socks and a sweatshirt–they had an unexpected cold snap here that I hadn’t packed for–and the sticker shock about killed me. A hundred and twenty for a sweatshirt? Four hundred bucks for a purse!? Dear god! Good thing they had a Lady Foot Locker in the mall, or I might have expired on the spot. I’m a cheap bastard, I admit. Just reading the tags gave me severe palpitations of the wallet.
But then I went into a Borders to grab a guide to birds of the L.A. area, and as the clerk was ringing me up, his cohort said “And then, after that, he logged on his Alliance character, just so he could send me a tell screaming about what a jerk I was for kiting the thing onto him! Like I did it deliberately!”
Ah, sweet normalcy…