Late Friday afternoon I learned I'd be making my way to LA for a business related trip the following Tuesday. So, bright and early Tuesday morning, ear ache and all, I hopped on a short flight and survived a semi wild taxi drive that wove me through some exceptionally lovely neighborhoods to get to the new LA office. After work I headed to the hotel to check in and came across what appeared to be an unusually large number of pageantry-esque costumes roaming about. Turns out, the iPop! convention was in town and would not be checking out until Thursday.
While the front desk guy took my information I learned that iPop! encompasses iDance, iSing, iPerform and iModel. iCan't quite define why, but pageantry folk give me a little bit of the willies. Seeing that I was away from the hotel a majority of the time I didn't mind the minor circus taking place, but when their post event partying disrupted my sleep the rage set in. Nothing like annoying party singing by juvenile sounding voices at 4 AM in the morning to enrage the soul.
After finishing work on Wednesday I took the opportunity, camera in hand, to enjoy my beautiful surrounding and the lovely Southern CA weather by wandering the streets near my hotel and office. Little did I anticipate, about two blocks from the office I would be treated by the iconic Beverly Hills sign. I strolled Santa Monica Boulevard enjoying the sights, snapping photos and scoping out a tasty dinner location. Trying to decide between two restaurants I opted to enjoy a happy hour beverage at a small modern italian restaurant Little did I know I would be in for quite the interesting LA interaction. Minding my own at the nearly empty bar a funny little man touched my shoulder and commented "oh there you are", until he realized I was not who he was looking for. This man proceeded to inform the bar tender and anyone within earshot that he was ordering pasta for his wife who had a bladder infection. TMI. He then took the opportunity to impose conversation on me. Nothing creepy, nor was he trying to put the moves on me, but this was a man with stuff to say and golly gee I was going to be the one to hear it. Super. I decided my best exit strategy might be to start gulping rather than sipping my drink.
As my new found buddy talked at me I noticed he had on two watches, a bold red, bedazzled number on the left and a bright orange leather one on the right. An interesting fashion choice for sure. Had he not made the clear and odd announcement about his wife I would have surely pegged him as playing for the other team. Godfrey, yes his name was indeed Godfrey, rambled on about fine Italian leather goods, and gave me the low down on Nick's martini bar, a known meat market where he was sure I could pick up a date or just have a good time. Thanks for the vote of confidence Godfrey. The more he talked I realized there was no need to down my drink and slowed to a leisurely pace. I had an interesting little Godfrey bug to observe and was quite entertained by his goings on. Once I made my way to Nick's as he insisted I visit, I was told to ask for the owners son by name and let them know who sent me, and of course, ask to be seated at the James Dean booth. Nothing less would do. Godfrey, being the helpful type, wrote down names, locations, references and provided his business card as well as a little professional background. A funny little bug for sure. He continued to chat at me long after his takeout had arrived which was surely growing chilly. As my glass emptied and he was confident that he had provided me with enough information for Nick's, my pal Godfrey headed back home to his "wife" and I made my back up the street to pick up my dinner.
Armed with psychologist Godfrey's business card and my scrumptious Mediterranean dinner in hand I ventured my way back to the hotel. Now keep in mind, California is a mighty big state, so despite the fact that I grew up and lived in the Bay Area for most all my life, my trips to southern California were quite limited and frankly only for swim meet purposes. So its quite accurate to say I have never really experienced LA like I did on this short trip and my oh my, the area I visited blew my fancy-car socks off. The S class Mercedes and/or high end BMW appear to be the everyday car for anyone driving in the vicinity. Not a day went by that I didn't see multiple Ferraris, Aston Martins, Rolls Royces, Maseratis, and hear the purr, not the squeal, of someone's high end engine as the speed around the corner only to roar up the street. I tell you it's enough to make this lady's knees go weak.
As much as I enjoyed my visit, working like a dog and observing a little LA culture, I am glad it's over and am be happy to be back home. I didn't end up making it to Nick's Martini Bar this trip but perhaps, if I'm feeling adventurous, on my next trip I'll test out my pal Godfrey's self proclaimed connections. Till next time LA. classy.
Being bed-less and on a budget upon our arrival in the desert we bought a rather unattractive, intentionally-faded-yellow painted, four post bed from IKEA. It was cheap and we were tired of sleeping on an air mattress, so it worked out just fine. Once we moved from our apartment to our house we were still in need of a bed for the guest room so I took the opportunity to chop off the tops of the posts and tone down the yellow with a few coats of white paint. Again, nothing glorious, but a functional bed for guests. 
