Loaf Angeles

Jen made a comment yesterday as we walked down Hollywood Blvd, something to the effect that people in this town seem to do a lot of loafing; walking slowly, and purposelessly? I’d have to agree, I guess that’s part of the charm.

Yeah, so today we did the Walk of Fame walk, and we saw things like the Kodak Theatre and El Capitan, and we took some more shots of Harry Zimm’s office and the Hollywood sign from a distance.

Later in the evening, Jen and I walked the 30 or 40 blocks (it’s more like 30) from Wordy & Matt’s apartment down to the beach. We sat and watched the water for a bit. As we sat there (since it had been a very long walk, my feet were into sitting) we saw a young couple (M & F) some 50 or so yards down the beach. He was on one knee, holding her hand, and at first, I said to Jen, “I think we’re witnessing a marriage proposal.” This theory stood up just fine until after he rose and there didn’t seem to be much in the way of excitement or jubilation at a new engagement; in fact, their body language seemed to suggest just the opposite.

We talked a little more about it and decided that she probably dumped him and he was begging her not to go: “Please baby, please; I can make it all better again, just don’t leave me, baby.” That idea led us to agreement that she was kind of a bitch for dragging it along like that. Jen said that she probably enjoyed all the attention. I said, “bitch.” Then they seemed to kiss rather passionately, and clearly he wanted something that she wouldn’t give, and then, what the hell, he’s back on his knees again, this time he’s got his armed wrapped around her leg.

By this time, we were entertaining the notion that maybe *he* really screwed up and he was groveling for forgiveness; the leg-clutching seemed to indicate a grovel. I said that he probably had sex with her sister or something and he was telling her it didn’t mean anything and he was very sorry. We went on to agree that he was kind of an asshole, I mean, to get into bed with her sister, he was lucky she’d even talk to him again. And what’s with her sister, too?? Most likely, there was a beach trip planned for her in the near future as well.

It was around this time (and he was still groveling) that we got up and kept walking.

We went back to the 3rd St Promenade to find something for dinner, but first Jen found some things at the Gap. I found some things at the Gap, too, but I don’t really have the money or the belly for them right now. I should get on some kind of a program…

Ultimately, we ate at place called “Yankee Doodle’s.” We settled on that after glancing at a number of menus that I was luke-warm about, but when we got there, I think we were both just tired (again) of walking. Our waitress was abysmal. In a restaurant that had definitely gotten past its “busy time” for the evening, it took no less than eight minutes for her to take a drink order, another seven to bring said drinks back to the table, and we sat (I’m not exaggerating) for over twenty minutes waiting for the food to show up. A meal that easily should’ve taken 35-40 minutes lasted an hour. After a thorough conversation with Wordell the night before, we tipped 15%.

Time to go back home, and Jen, being a mass transit veteran from her college days, said “let’s just get on the bus,” so we did, and that was sooo much better than walking! We only had a five when the bus showed up, so the driver let us on for free.

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