After leaving Panera, we started to make our way towards Venice Beach. We were meeting my friend Bridget and some of her friends there. After about a mile, Vince asked me to pull into a gas station, so I obliged. He got out calmly, went to the bathroom, and returned within 5-minutes. "I guess it was all the water and no food." He says. "Oh, but it had nothing to do with the bottle of champagne you practically guzzled yourself?" As long as he was feeling better, that's my concern, and he said he was. Continuing on towards the beach, there was traffic, heat, more traffic, and more heat. Getting off at Venice, we started the long search for parking, which was hilarious at best. Turns out Bridget and her friends haven't even left North Hollywood yet, but were going to call when they got down there. We ended up parking at California and Abbot Kinney, which was roughly a 10-to-15-minute walk to the beach.
Finally getting down to the beach, we didn't have a care in the world at that moment. Where we were going to sleep that night, where we were going to eat later, getting Vince to the airport on time the next day, nothing. All we saw were water, sand, waves, and sunshine (not counting the many people around us). The ocean, our boundary from driving any further, was a sign for me, of freedom, of growth, of a new beginning. I snapped some pictures of seagulls, waves, water, whatever, then found a spot in the sand and just relaxed. I relaxed my mind, my body, my soul, everything. I just let it melt and blend with the soothing sound of the waves crashing. Not using my brain due to the calming hypnosis of the sights and sounds before me, I removed my t-shirt and laid down on the sand. A nap in the sun was just what I needed. Vince nabbed the camera and walked around.
Upon my waking up, Vince was back, sleeping in the sand just feet away, and I had some text messages. It was Bridget updating me on their whereabouts, at that point, I didn't really care. I laid back down and napped for another 20-minutes, then opted I should get up, realizing that the only sunblock I had used was on my arms and neck: ingenious! I checked my phone again, and Bridget had told me where they were on the beach. Vince and I opted to get up and look for them, but after walking about 100 yards, we figured it was like a wild goose chase and we'd meet up with them for dinner. We sat back down and chatted a bit, Vince was feeling more like himself, again. We were trying to figure out what to do that night and where to sleep.
Bridget called and said they were heading to the Pizza place that she loves. Abbot Kinney Pizza, 1407 Abbot Kinney St., which I ended up plotting into my phone's 'google maps' application. Turns out this pizza joint was 2 blocks from where I parked my car, so it couldn't have worked out more perfectly! We got the the pizza place and waited about 15-minutes for the remainder of the entourage. We went in, and it was a 'pizza-by-the-slice' kind of place, with racks of pizzas on those rotisserie pans with the lights. You know the ones, they put pretzels on them at carnivals. I asked Vince what he planned to get, he wasn't sure, but opted at the last second to get 2 slices, both of which he inhaled. I got 2 slices, as well: 1 slice of goat cheese, mushroom, and garlic, and 1 slice of sun dried tomatoes, spinach, and goat cheese.
After the pizza, we bummed around the neighborhood for another 30-minutes digesting and clowning around. We said our goodbyes, and were possibly going to meet up later in the night, but did not. Vince and I decided to just head back to the same motel that we were in the night previous, seeing as it was only $70 per night.
En route, we thought about just taking it easy that night and maybe going to see Dark Knight again. Pulling in to the parking lot about 30-minutes later, we went to the office, and were told they had one room left--we took it. This room, just as creepy as the last, but for different reasons, coaxed some sick jokes out of us.
We checked under the mattress for dead hookers and corpses in general. An ongoing joke throughout our trip was which motels had bibles and not. This one managed to have one, in this room, but not the last. Not only did we find a bible in the drawer, but burn marks around it. This is where my hypothesis of the previous tenant was a junkie came from: the burn marks were from incendiary spoons being set down upon injection of mood enhancements. [smack]
Our sick sense of humour had creeped us out enough to decide that we wanted to spend as little time in this room as possible. Earlier we had asked Delilah where to find an AMC movie theater, since I had 2 free movie passes. (Long story, short: Some dude came into Estelle's and tried to buy drinks with a stack of movie passes. It didn't work, but I guess he left them anyway, or as a tip. Tommy gave them to Berger or vice-versa, and somehow they ended up in Derek's hands. He gave me a pair, and that's how I got them, yay.)
Our movie destination: Burbank, CA, a mere 10-minute drive from our junkie haven in Studio City. Getting off the highway, we saw Warner Music Group buildings, so I had a good idea of where I was. Getting to the theatre, the area reminded me of Schaumburg or Woodfield area, so that was sort of comforting. The theater was decent, just as I'd expected, we saw a lot of younger people, I just hoped that they'd be quiet during the movie. They were, but there was one guy a few seats down from Vince that was on his phone in the beginning. I asked him to take it outside because we didn't pay $10 per ticket to listen to his conversation. He didn't hear me or chose not to hear me, but the kids a couple rows up got his attention by chucking candy at him.
After the movie, which we both loved all over again, we headed back to the motel. I showered and my sunburn hurt--BAD. Yeah, with all that soulful hippy crap I went through at the beach, my better judgement was clouded and i turned myself into a lobster. Aside from that, the shower was decent. I felt like 'Kramer' with all the sand all over me. I laid down and Vince went to shower. I must've been tired because when I woke up, it was the next day.
Gotta take Vince to LAX later, but first Hollywood...until then, Rock & Roll!
-Uncle J.
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