better what than red in the head?

Heading towards the Gulch. A large disheveled white guy with a crazy look in his eye starts towards me. I have my sunglasses on thank God.

“Hey! Give me some money!”

Walking.

“Got any crack? Give it to me!”

Keep walking. I wonder if he’s going to lunge for my purse ’cause I can see him out of the corner of my eye and he’s got some bad juju. He ain’t getting his hands on my Longchamp no matter what. The embarrassing thing is, I’m wearing clogs, ’cause I’m going out later and left my cool boots at my desk. Then I think, y’know, that’s not such a bad thing, cuz I can always take one off and wallop him on the head.

“You got directions to the 101?!” he screams. “Money! Crack!”

Someone across the street is watching this and starts yelling at him to leave the girl alone. I’m way past him now anyway.

“Fucking redhead! Bitch! Turn the fuck around REDHEAD!”

Why do they always have to make it about the hair? WHY?

fox(es) on the run

It could only happen to us. The return of FunkyJenn and me to Gower Gulch had to be remarkable. It started off okay; I got there typically early and hung out at the David Lynch Starbucks, wondering if I had the wrong day for our wrap lunch. When you’re out of work, it only takes a few days to get into the “what day is it?” blur and when you are in Gower Gulch, that blur hangs overhead permanently, making the calendar useless. I looked for Jack in vain, joked with the employees about the loss of the “Sunset and Gower: We got the Power” sign (their new one: “Sunset and Gower: We Never Shower” and they like FJ and my “Sunset and Gower: Tower of Power” for the next one.) Anyway, we had our wrap lunch, then headed out to shop. I went back to Starbucks (can I stay away? Will anyone believe me when I say I’m a Bean girl?) to wait for Jen who had ran over to the studio to grab her last paycheck. She arrived, breathless.

“I just jaywalked across the street, right in front of a cop car.”

“Did they stop?”

“Yeah, they pulled in here.”

“Oh, there’s too much crime in Hollywood for them to chase down a jaywalker.” I still can’t believe, EastCoaster than I am, that you get tickets for jaywalking. We invented the sport, for chrissakes.

“When they have a quota to make, they do.” FJen knows all. She was born in Hollywood. Who the hell is born in Hollywood?

“Ok, lemme go look.”

I dash outside. Jen stays in at the counter w/our former boss. I see the cop. It’s a she. She’s walking slowly down the Gulch, looking into the window of Togo’s. Then she speeds up and heads towards SBucks. I turn and start to go in and warn Jenn to get in the bathroom, but the cop steps in front of me and beats me inside. Fuck!

Jenn is still in line. The cop is right behind her, looking her up and down. There’s no way for me to tell her what’s going on. Our old boss glances at me, incredulous. I’m watching the cop as Jenn moves towards the pickup counter. Somehow I get her from the counter to my car which is miraculously parked right in front. She jumps in the front seat as I lock her in.

“Go get my drink - venti ice soy chai for Jennifer.”

“Will do.”

The cop is still looking around but she hasn’t spotted Jenn in my car. Boss is laughing and covering her mouth.

“Only you two.”

It’s true. The security guards at Sunset Gower nicknamed us double trouble and we don’t even work there anymore. On the one day we come back, of course there would be police.

I get Jen’s drink and get in the car. I look over and the cop car has gone. I point:

“She was parked right there, in that space. Now it’s empty - right next to the–”

Jen finishes the sentence.

“Right next to my car.”