The Golden Ass

Living in Los Angeles affords us of many interesting experiences. I will now share with my cyber audience three special ones that strike me as being especially unique to Los Angeles living:

1. I was in Ralph's one evening (the local grocery store) when in walked a seemingly-handsome and well-tanned young man (as I suppose the women would say) with medium-long wavy dark hair. He was wearing a pair of strikingly short bright-blue boxers, pointy dark brown Ranch-life Cowboy boots, and an oversized pair of David Hasslehoff sunglasses. Additionally, he sported a buttoned up white pen-stripe dress shirt (not tucked in, thank God!). I shall let my audience do the math and figure out how he might have gotten into such a getty-up. The only part missing from the equasion seems to be the very fact that he was walking through Ralph's in such attire.

2. Being an architect, I one day went down to the City Hall of Long Beach to submit some plans, and while walking across the large plaza was treated with an interesting sight in its middle. There was a large burly Harley-Davidson looking man with a big shaggy goatee and the appropriate sunglasses. Only missing the black leather attire. In its place, however, was a pair of Mark Twain overalls - minus the tattered bottoms, but including the bare feet. No shirt, however, underneath the overalls. You can imagine the hair on his arms if you wish. Further provision of comedy was given by the little furry high pitched barking pomeranian briskly leading the big burly man along in circles around a rather tall dark brown lampost.

Further provision of comedy was the shirtlessly overalled man's talking to himself while walking in cirlces while, again, trying desparately to keep up with a ferociously barking pomeranian while, again, muttering to himself incoherently. Circular sentences end where they begin, as do men walking in them. Except this man was doing it over and over and over again, very quickly.

3. This story was graciously imparted upon me by my good friend Audrey Blumber in the form of a real life story. As she "drove" down Hyperion Ave. in Silverlake one evening (right near where I work, I think), she was struck, as is typical for L.A. by just how unfitting "driving" would have described her current activity. "Sitting" would have been more appropriate. She got to stongly wondering about the reason for the delay, but expected no answeres, since there ususally isn't one here on our mysterious L.A. streets. This time, however, she was treated with an answer, although not lacking said mystery. Not at all in the way of traffic due to his perfect placement of himself in the exact middle of the street was a man walking.

Not especially unusual, I suppose. As Audrey approached him from behind, however, what did first strike her as unusual was the sighting of his bare buttocks. What secondly struck her as rather unusual was that the rest of his body, with the exception of the wirey grey hair on his head, was covered in shiney black leather. Further mysteriousness filled her soul as she slowly passed him and was delightfully presented with a view of his thoroughly aged genitals. The most perplexing aspect of this particular mystery, however, was the absence of his...uuhh...you know. After a small eternity of painfully staring at the region in the dark of night to try and figure out what on earth was going on, she realized that it was between his legs. As she laughed to her self and continued "driving" on at normal speed, she realized that the previous delay in traffic was simply because folks in the cars previously ahead of her had been "stargazing," which is quite common here in LA.