Friday, July 15, 2011

I had plans to go to a bar dowtown, but...

A friend of mine has moved to a loft downtown. That special part of LA where warehouses are turned into hip living spaces, housing without a safe parking spot is unthinkable and people spend time riding trains (yes, real trains) to artwalks, urban museums and yoga class in galleries. In juxtaposition to my strolls through lush West Hollywood streets, Kings Road coffee in hand while I pass the Alexander McQueen storefront... this downtown world feels intelligent, dangerous and sexy.

So when my friend and I made plans for drinks near his spacious loft, I was excited to enter the urban atmosphere for the night- walk by high rises, duck into a speakeasy, and feel transported into a citified environment. But when he texted me an hour before our meet-up to say he had to reschedule, I sadly took off my stylish jumper and switched to the comfort of my tiny Japanese robe for the night. Girl at a Bar decided to be Girl at a Bar another time.

I got into a groove with writing and at 2am, it was well past the hour to take my pup out before heading to dreamland. I often contemplate putting on real clothes when I go for a quick walk with my loveable dog, but decide I won't actually see anyone important in the five minutes outside of the building. You would think after running into a famous Hollywood producer and the lead singer of Augustana, that I would learn. As I opened my door and saw two cops walking up the staircase, then seeing eight more in the courtyard below... I learned.

"Ma'am, did you scream?" the burly officer closest to me asked.
"No," I replied.
"Did you call 911?"
"Uh, no."
"We received a call from this courtyard that a woman has been screaming, you didn't hear anything?"
"Nope," I repeated as I looked down, embarrassed at the robe that barely covered my thighs.
"Is that your window?" he asked as he pointed to my neighbors' apartment. As I said no, the ten officers all spoke fervently into their shoulders and approached my neighbors' door. I was stunned and immediately recoiled into my house, locked the deadbolt and waited. Ten minutes later, I heard the cops leave and called next door, demanding they escort me the two feet into their apartment to explain what happened.

My actor neighbor Hunter, who I have written about as quite the Internet Sensation, is putting on a Christmas Play in July. That sounds fun, but what is even more fun is that they were filming a promo video for said play at two in the morning. In the video Santa (played by Hunter) becomes annoyed with his lowly elf (played by his friend Francisco) and a mock beating ensues. Their fake cries echoed out their open window, prompting a call to 911 for fear of a woman's safety. The cops opened the door to this West Hollywood apartment to find a man dressed in a Santa outfit and a man in an elf costume that fell just below his hip region. As the police moved through the apartment to be sure the boys were not hiding an abused woman, they found a bedroom decorated as Santa's office. Christmas came early. And it looked kinky. That one is surely going to be donut conversation for weeks to come.



It has been five months since I completed my year-long solo bar journey. I continue to do things alone, go on Los Angeles adventures and find stories. After all, that's what the year has taught me to do. To make up for my missed downtown jaunt, I think I'll go on a date with myself in the urban oasis soon. And next time a friend bails on me, I should continue our plans alone, perhaps even at a bar. But on the nights when a bar outing was in the original plan and I choose to stay home, I may just find something better in my apartment complex...watching the Christmas elf being rescued by the Los Angeles police.

1 comment:

kharen katty said...

If I were in your position, I probably would’ve done the same thing. It’s good that you have a sturdy deadbolt to keep you safe. It’s also good to hear that no harm was done, after all.

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