I woke up the morning of July 4, a bit disoriented and
shaken up by the sounds of loud motors, a bright light and then trembling of
the ground beneath me. While I had yet
to experience my first earthquake, this was not one. The sun had not yet graced the blue ocean
with its glimmer and I quickly hopped to my feet gripping my belongings, which
I had strapped to my body in my slumber.
As I looked towards the light I recognized that it was a large machine
dragging a rake to comb the beach of debris before the people flooded the sands
for the Independence Day festivities. I
gathered my things and headed towards the pier, hoping to find a water fountain
to brush my teeth. On my trek towards
the pier as the sun began to rise, I began to notice others waking as well,
some homeless and some lovers who had spent the night under the moonlight
together.
Along with the variety of odd characters that I noticed
waking up with the Santa Monica beach, I also notice that there were quite a
few things cluttering the sand, a random pair of shoes, an umbrella, a full
bottle of wine. I decided to pick up the
fully corked bottle of wine and the beach umbrella and add it to my collection
after all, today I was getting a storage locker. I walked under the pier and took a right and
noticed a VW bus, you know the kind that hippies used to follow the Grateful
Dead and such, there was a guy strumming a banjo and a couple of others waiting
in line. My curiosity could not keep me
from wandering towards them and finding out what it is they were waiting for at
6 am next to the pier.
“Hello, I said” to a bearded gentleman of about 60, “How are
you this morning?” “Fine and dandy” he
stated and he reached over and handed me a joint. We sat there for a minute as he picked his
instrument before I noticed a gentleman walk out a door. “What’s in that door, I asked”, “Bathhouse”
he said, “Get yer ass in there and git cleaned up” and that’s the last thing
that he said.
I went through the door and inside were a few sinks, a few
showers with curtains. There was an
older black man at one of the sinks dressed in a nice suit and shaving. I thought to myself “what is this doing here in the side of the
pier?”, but I was grateful and I quickly showered, shaved and then made my way
to the little coffee shop on the corner of 4th and Santa Monica, my
office. “God works in funny ways” I
thought. I had exactly what I needed,
right when I needed it.
Please follow me for the next few
weeks as I daily continue the story of my Los Angeles adventures. Magical things happened throughout this
adventure. Some entries may be brief and
some, more extensive, but I will continue to tell my story on a regular basis,
if you continue to loyal read…and even if you don’t.
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`tilly
1 comment:
I love one tliiy!
Mom
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