Life imitating art
As a huge movie fanatic, I've seen all the lovely sappy romantic comedies that chicks see. I also see the action flicks, but I'll expand on that when I visit Tunisia. Today, in Los Angeles, it was like Love Actually morphed with Pretty Woman. You know that last scene in Love Actually, the montage of actual greetings at the airport the director took, with all the people hugging and kissing and what not. I felt like I was watching that at the Los Angeles airport as I waited for Liane. Unlike the flick, no one was allowed at the gate, so the greetings took place at the curbside pick up area. All the young folks came out of baggage claim and as their ride pulled over, there was a huge smile spread across the arrivers face. As the driver approaches there are either squeals of joy, huge hugs and longing kisses, or hi-fives and those strange manly bump-hugs--whatever they call them. And then, off they go, onto the LA road. It was really a joy to watch--you never realize how amazing it is to watch other people go through the spectrum of anticipation, joy, elation, and comfort. It makes you all warm and fuzzy inside.
Cut to Pretty Woman. I'm dressed in jeans, sneakers, a long sleeve jean jacket, and a scarf around my neck, walking to the Kodak Center with Liane who is dressed in jeans, flats, and a long sleeve sweater jacket. On our way there, chatting about food and her dog, an SUV drives by with the passengers yelling, "$5 to lick your pussy!" and "Hooker? Hooker?" I felt like I should have been in that scene with Julia Roberts and Laura San-Giacomo walking down Hollywood Boulevard, but I wasn't dressed for it. Dear god! I'm now thinking hookers in LA don't dress like hookers anymore. From what I saw, all the clubber chicks now dress like streetwalkers and I'm assuming, the streetwalkers dress like...normal people. Must make it hard for people to distinguish between them. On top of that, I've never been yelled at like that anywhere (except for Kansas City, MO, when I was leaving a formal event and dressed in a cocktail dress... guess no one dresses nicely there)--not even New York, not San Francisco, not Hawaii. People must be hard up for sex in LA. Is this what they do for shits and giggles on a Friday night here? I'm now certain my decision to move to NY over LA was probably the best decision I've made in my adult life.
Cut to Pretty Woman. I'm dressed in jeans, sneakers, a long sleeve jean jacket, and a scarf around my neck, walking to the Kodak Center with Liane who is dressed in jeans, flats, and a long sleeve sweater jacket. On our way there, chatting about food and her dog, an SUV drives by with the passengers yelling, "$5 to lick your pussy!" and "Hooker? Hooker?" I felt like I should have been in that scene with Julia Roberts and Laura San-Giacomo walking down Hollywood Boulevard, but I wasn't dressed for it. Dear god! I'm now thinking hookers in LA don't dress like hookers anymore. From what I saw, all the clubber chicks now dress like streetwalkers and I'm assuming, the streetwalkers dress like...normal people. Must make it hard for people to distinguish between them. On top of that, I've never been yelled at like that anywhere (except for Kansas City, MO, when I was leaving a formal event and dressed in a cocktail dress... guess no one dresses nicely there)--not even New York, not San Francisco, not Hawaii. People must be hard up for sex in LA. Is this what they do for shits and giggles on a Friday night here? I'm now certain my decision to move to NY over LA was probably the best decision I've made in my adult life.
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