McDonalds @ sunset
Took a break from the Sunset Junction crowds at the McDonald's to eat a reasonably priced meal, drink an unlimited supply of soda, speed up the arrival of my first heart attack with yummy french fries and mostly to sit in an air conditioned room away from the bands.
Situated myself in the corner facing away from the interior, tired of looking at people. My hyper observant skills have kept me speeding ticket free, but I often tire out from visual information overload fairly quickly and my positioning worked until this odd couple sat at the table next to me chatting about the fair so far.
It was either a first date or an odd pairing of classmates because I couldn't spot the common thread in their conversation to explain this pairing at all. She had a thick Asian accent and a most unfortunate silly hee hee laugh and him with his Midwestern twang. Recent transplants to Los Angeles? Escapees from the Inland Empire or worst, Orange County? Did they on craigslist's strickly platonic"?
"Where did you park?"
"I don't know!" She giggled out.
"10 miles!?!" That was his follow up, his punchline.
"No!" giggle giggle.
He laughed at her. She laughed with him.
I rolled my eyes as I'm jotting this down. Outside I watched a teenage girl with a giant fake mustache curtsying to a stranger walking by.
"I'm so thirsty," said Giggley.
"What?" He asks but doesn't understand her even the second time and shrugs it off when his phone rings. He answers it. Of course he does.
"Sea Bass! Sea Bass! [I swear this is what he said] What side are you...in Echo Park...on the Hollywood? Arvi? Where are you? What? Where are you? Sunset and what? What? Where. Are. You?
I wanted to jab my pencil in his throat, then grab that phone and slam it inside that giggling girl's mouth as she quietly giggled to herself.
"Yeah Hyper... Hyperion and Sunset."
I notice this orange ghost in the window reflection in front of me. Next to me is side show bob crackhead asking the annoying couple for change. Mumbling his words as his right arm dangled.
"Sorry I don’t have any money," phone guy says hanging up, "I'll give you some fries."
Crackhead doesn’t comprehend this at first and starts his spiel again. Guy repeats his offer until the crackhead pauses, wobbling back a step.
"Oh Man, Oh Lady," this is taking all his strength, "I don’t need anything to eat, I just need a dollar to get home."
The guy repeats his gesture as crackhead sways his head in the opposite direction, body following the momentum towards my table. I give him a corner eye turn.
"Hey ma..."
"I don’t have anything. Sorry."
I only gave him the right side of my face and with that he turned and walked away. We eat in peace.
Two minutes later the orange glow is back in the window. I look at the phone guy. The phone guy looks at me as the crackhead begs for change to make it home again.
Thank you drugs for another beautiful moment in Los Angeles-ish.
Situated myself in the corner facing away from the interior, tired of looking at people. My hyper observant skills have kept me speeding ticket free, but I often tire out from visual information overload fairly quickly and my positioning worked until this odd couple sat at the table next to me chatting about the fair so far.
It was either a first date or an odd pairing of classmates because I couldn't spot the common thread in their conversation to explain this pairing at all. She had a thick Asian accent and a most unfortunate silly hee hee laugh and him with his Midwestern twang. Recent transplants to Los Angeles? Escapees from the Inland Empire or worst, Orange County? Did they on craigslist's strickly platonic"?
"Where did you park?"
"I don't know!" She giggled out.
"10 miles!?!" That was his follow up, his punchline.
"No!" giggle giggle.
He laughed at her. She laughed with him.
I rolled my eyes as I'm jotting this down. Outside I watched a teenage girl with a giant fake mustache curtsying to a stranger walking by.
"I'm so thirsty," said Giggley.
"What?" He asks but doesn't understand her even the second time and shrugs it off when his phone rings. He answers it. Of course he does.
"Sea Bass! Sea Bass! [I swear this is what he said] What side are you...in Echo Park...on the Hollywood? Arvi? Where are you? What? Where are you? Sunset and what? What? Where. Are. You?
I wanted to jab my pencil in his throat, then grab that phone and slam it inside that giggling girl's mouth as she quietly giggled to herself.
"Yeah Hyper... Hyperion and Sunset."
I notice this orange ghost in the window reflection in front of me. Next to me is side show bob crackhead asking the annoying couple for change. Mumbling his words as his right arm dangled.
"Sorry I don’t have any money," phone guy says hanging up, "I'll give you some fries."
Crackhead doesn’t comprehend this at first and starts his spiel again. Guy repeats his offer until the crackhead pauses, wobbling back a step.
"Oh Man, Oh Lady," this is taking all his strength, "I don’t need anything to eat, I just need a dollar to get home."
The guy repeats his gesture as crackhead sways his head in the opposite direction, body following the momentum towards my table. I give him a corner eye turn.
"Hey ma..."
"I don’t have anything. Sorry."
I only gave him the right side of my face and with that he turned and walked away. We eat in peace.
Two minutes later the orange glow is back in the window. I look at the phone guy. The phone guy looks at me as the crackhead begs for change to make it home again.
Thank you drugs for another beautiful moment in Los Angeles-ish.
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