There have been those who have questioned my
deep obsessive love for the city of Los Angeles. I recently learned that according the U.S Census, there are 9,818,605 MILLION people in LA as of 2010. Seriously- I feel like 1,000 of those people live on my block. When I first moved in I was astonished at how many people they cram into each street.
"Hey you! See this shoebox? You can rent it for the cheap price of $900 a month!! It even comes with a sink and a toilet!!! Oooooooooohhhhh aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!" Yeah, not so much.
Anyway, I found that although it’s crowded- I LOVE IT! Despite the sea of independent individuals, there are a few types that I notice can always be found in any given neighborhood. Its like the city planner has a list of these people- “New block off of Federal? We need a drunk, a dog walker and a foreigner, STAT!” In an effort to give you a better idea of these people- I give you the people that make up LA:
The Ex-Actor
NOTE: if a person in LA has been involved in any part of a film- they consider themselves an actor. Seriously. The dog shit picker upper that worked on the set of the second Chihuahua movie that went straight to DVD? AN ACTOR I SAY! These individuals are really the founding fathers for all of the categories that follow (minus the Asians- being a failing actor probably doesn’t change your ethnicity… right?) Actors and Actresses come out West for thousands of reasons. After all, LA is the land of DREAMS! of PROMISE! of HUGE SALARIES! …of congregations of homeless people who fight over their shopping carts. [NOTE: I am giggling while I write this, but I really shouldn’t. The bf and I end our nightly prayers asking God to please make sure we don’t join the shopping cart all-stars. However, I do have my eye on this bad ass neon cart in case things go south…]
Usually the ex-actress gets married after she gives up her dream, but for the actors life is not so easy. The ex-actor is, by definition, a loner. These guys have seen it all- and they want you to know it. They spend hours sitting on their balconies, hoping someone walks by so they can share their experiences. (Actually , they usually chill on the step in front of their door- balconies are expensive. Know what I’m sayin’?!) They have amazing tales of shooting in Arizona (head shots taken in the valley), meeting Robert De Niro for lunch (seeing ‘ole Rob as he biked on the street across from the Palm), and schmoozing with directors (working as a waiter at their cocktail parties). Never the less, they are really the fathers of the block. “Come ye and I shall impart my wisdom!” Moral of the story- if you are bored at home, grab yourself a roadie and find your closest ex-actor.
The Dog-Walker
The dog walker is arguably the most important person on the block. If you live in LA, you are bound to have a dog walker in your neighborhood. If the ex-actor is the father of the block, the dog walkers are the fairy god-people. In my house, if Dot ‘aint happy, nobody’s happy. Luckily for me, mine is a saint. She loves Dot and Dot loves her. I can text mine at any time of the day during any day of the week and she comes to my rescue.
Text anytime: See one-eyed text sent during a boozy afternoon in Venice with the bf: Hey Nancy, I’m tooo2o2o drunk to come back and I dont wannaaaaaa to call a cab, can you take out muffin? Reply: Of course! Have fun! [thank god she understands drunk law students]
You SOOOOOOOO can’t do that with a kid. [Another reason I plan on sticking with dogs.] If this behavior sounds odd to you, it shouldn’t. I’m definitely not alone. 90% of residences in my zip code are apartments. Therefore we got a whole lotta dog without a whole lotta yard. At any given moment, there may be six dogs fighting to leave their mark on one single patch of grass. I don’t know about y’all, but mama is in no mood to hang out while her dog engages in a pissing war. Many of my fellow furry friend owners agree. Value your free time? Want to be able to hang out drink too much on a Saturday? Find the fairy god mother on your block. A word of caution- do not piss her off, no one wants to come home to a pile of shit in their shoe. Just sayin’.
The Drunk
Doesn’t everyone fall into this category? Yes- at some point in time we all get drunk, but we are (hopefully) not the drunk. The drunk may be the dog walker, or the ex- actor. As a rule- drunks are never seen going to work. They don’t have jobs, but somehow they pay the rent. [If you are the neighborhood drunk and you are reading this, please email me the secret. Kthanks] My neighborhood drunk is incredible. He wakes up at noon and spends the rest of the day hanging out in the courtyard of his apartment- our neighborhood dog hangout- giving people advice. He has lived here for over two decades and can tell you about every tree on the block, and every person that lives on our street. At first I found this incredibly creepy- how do you know that Sarah lives at 1526 in apartment B? Now I’ve just accepted it as some sort of strange 6th sense.
As a rule, you want to be friends with the neighborhood drunk. Not because he will give you alcohol, but because he will talk smack about you to the rest of the block if he doesn’t like you. It sounds childish, but if he doesn’t like me, the dog walker (his neighbor) won’t like me. See shit in my shoe. If you are interested in the history of your block, or are nosey and want to know about your neighbors, go visit your neighborhood drunk. Believe me, if you just moved and want to be well received, you want this guy in your corner.
The Stoner
I know what you are thinking, “They have these in every city.” Yes they do. BUUUUUUT the LA stoner is not so much a type of person, but rather a thread that connects almost every person. Its kind of like a way of life here, and let me tell you I am not opposed. Sorry dad. We have quite a few stoners on the block, but one that I have crowned The stoner. If I am ever having a bad day- I pray I run into the stoner. Nothing is better than listening to some Jimi Hendrix or some Steeley Dan with this guy. Duuuuuuuudddeeee listen to the guitar. It’s sooooooo mellow…like a mushroom…that’s growing the size of a tree.
Um, right. Just go with it. Even if I’m not feelin’ it, how can that type of cosmic description NOT make you feel better? I’m a big fan of the distraction, and this joker definitely provides one. The greatest thing about my stoner, and probably most of them, is that he is also a flaming liberal. This makes me giddy with excitement. You think liberals don’t make sense sober? There is NOTHING like arguing with a high democrat. Law school be damned, I’ve perfected the art of the oral argument with my stoner. I bet Sallie Mae is happy I didn’t find him six semesters ago. Sigh…
The Asian
[Disclaimer- I love Asians. No disrespect y'all]
DO.NOT.DRIVE. around this person. Ok wait, that’s not fair. Do not drive around an oooooollldddeerrr Asian. [most]California Asians can drive, which is a great thing considering there are more Asians than white people in LA. That also might be the reason that there are 11, ELEVEN, sushi restaurants within three blocks of my apartment. [insert: joy, cymbal clanging, religious dancing] Anyway, every block will have its share of Asians. The first thing to know- the Asian is much much smarter than you. This is for sure a result of their upbringing. Wait- you people actually OBEY your parents? Hahahahahahahahahah! [Asian response: yes, bitch. That’s why I got into a better college than you.] Scoff, scoff.
The Asian also rarely socializes alone- they travel in packs. They are also very punctual. The Asian girl that lives above my apartment can only be seen twice a day. Once at 7:15 when she goes to work- seriously, 7:15 on the dot every single day- and at 5:30 when she gets home. It’s like clock- work. Last month my microwave- my only source of time- broke. Fear not! I set the time based on my Asian. It’s a beautiful thing.
The Foreigner
Whether this is an individual or a pair, you are sure to find a few on your block. The idea of living in LA is extremely appealing to foreigners. I have to say, I really don’t understand why. Who in their right mind would want to leave Europe or Italy? EVER!? In college, I spent three months studying in Sicily.
Studying: See flirting with Italian men, bronzing on the beach and drinking wine starting at 9am daily. See also: learning about the mafia. [Yes, they still exist. Yes, they will burn your shit down if you don’t pay.]
Anywho- my love of Italy and my experience works out as my foreigners are Italian. Yippee!! As a rule, most foreigners in LA can speak English, but only when things are going well. When they are upset? Holy hell- it’s like those episodes of I Love Lucy when Lucy Eff’s up and Ricki goes ass Cuban on her ass. I always wonder- what the hell are you saying? If you need to learn American cuss words, you have come to the right place. Mama is an authority on four letter words. I blame public school. Again, sorry dad. Foreigners are great- you can actually learn about culture and bomb.com cooking without traveling. Turn it into a game- you teach me how to make that amazing eggplant cheese thing and I will teach you some four letters words. BOOM- that’s friendship baby.
Recap: the rules to hanging on the block: Love your dog walker. Set your clock by your Asian. Perfect the craft of debate with your stoner. Relax with your ex-actor. Make friends with your drunk. Lastly, culture yourself by way of your foreigners.
It really is like Mr. Rogers neighborhood isn’t it?
