Wednesday, June 13, 2007
It's not all a slice of heaven....
Just in case you thought we were having nothing but fun I thought I would add a little piece on the part of LA that makes me bonkers: DRIVING. From backing out of my driveway and trying not to kill drunk college teens or scrape the Volvo which is always parked inches away from us, to my 15 minute commute to work in the morning, a whopping 2.5 miles away, to the no parking anywhere, well, it's enough to "drive" me crazy. Ha ha. Next summer I am looking at 45 minutes - 1 hour commute if I take a downtown job - we are talking eleven miles, ten of which are on the freeway.
Today was a perfect example of why LA may not be for everyone, even though we really like it here. Erica decided to leave her keys and wallet at home (on purpose she assures me), and since this was the first day that I had a free (or not free depending on how you look at it) lunch since I started working a few weeks ago I thought I would come back and pick her up so we could go get something to eat "really quick". We hadn't been to Chipotle in a while (the greatest restaurant on the planet), so I thought we would hit that up. 20 minutes later, after traveling 5 miles, we found ourselves circling the block that Chipotle was located on, in the heart of Beverly Hills. Street parking - Zero. Public "pay to park" lots - full. Nearby neighborhoods - full. "Oh look, a spot is opening up over there!" (*Zoom* a Porsche 911 Turbo crosses 4 lanes of traffic and neatly fills the opening before a car blinker can be activated.) After 20 traumatic minutes of searching we simply left. No Chipotle in hand. No perfect combination of rice, corn salsa, sour cream, black beans, and guacamole. 20 minutes to return back to our point of departure only to find that lunch hour was over, no lunch to be had. After a short prayer we found a spot being vacated in an alley behind an El Pollo Loco in Westwood (decent, but no Chipotle). Erica dove out of the vehicle to prevent any nearby alley cats from taking our spot, daring them to run her over as she stood defiantly in the spot, while I maneuvered the car into the treasured space. Only to discover that the parking was metered (and of course we had no change). Yes, metered. In an alley. Behind El Pollo Loco. Luckily the guy before us still had 8 minutes to go when he left.
It's a good thing I don't have a set lunch hour.