Saturday, October 18, 2008

Grand View


Standing on Grand View Avenue, wondering where the hell the name came from. I shared my smoke with an old tree trunk turned tiki-pole/roof support structure for Mar Vista Bowl.

Grand View? All I saw was dark streets lit by a Karate, Goodwill and Laundry Mat sign that glowed the stars away.

Go ahead tiki man, take a hit. I hoped the late night, three bikers I saw riding the Venice lane home didn’t catch me holding the lit cigarette to my wooden friend’s mouth. You gotta’ give the bikers respect. I talk a big environmental game but the true livers of the dream are those willing to pedal home at 1am. They actually fly by pretty fast, I felt me and my new friend were safe.

The streets were empty considering…Saturday night, West LA, bowling for $20 from 10pm to 1am? Where was everybody?

Screw um’. I was chilling. Inside my friends and a friend-with-benefits-gone bad were taking my turns.

Footsteps and voices startled me as they crept around the corner. People coming. I regained my composer and my cigarette. Two very drunk men crossed the street headed my way but a group of girls and their high-pitched good nights cut them off.

Phew.

Filled with liquid courage and the belly to prove it, one of the guys wobbled after them. Unimpressed, the girls kept their backs turned and haphazardly continued their conversation, pretending not to notice the strange man and his mumbles at their heels. It only took a couple of blurry, “Gimme some of that’s…” for him to realize they were into more sophisticated game. They all disappeared and so did my cigarette. I had to go back in. Damn.

I looked around one more time just in case I missed something. A couple of Fichus trees, pavement and asphalt, a tattoo shop, a liquor store. Nope. I turned my head down the avenue until it darkened. I stopped focusing on the corner I was at, obviously not the inspiration for the name Grand View, wondering, hoping that maybe down yonder it was more so.

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