Into the mouth of hell, rode the bitter 600.

12 Feb

Heading into Downtown LA is always like a frightening road trip into the bowels of hell.

Its always a toss up as to whether you will get out alive again.

I am headed to the fashion district, not for any specific need of mine, but as the hired muscle, a lackey, brought along to carry the heavy stuff.

Definitely not the glamor job I prefer.

0800 on a Saturday morning is one of the few times that you can drive on the 110 freeway and not continually mutter the word fuck while playing stop and go with the rest of LA.

Parking can be a bitch, however, at this time of the morning, it is not.

My employer for this trip has a favored parking garage in the middle of the area that is always empty at this hour of the morning.

Let me get the following sequence of events straight.

As we were pulling into the third floor parking lot, the three Asian girls were just leaving their car and walking back towards where we had just entered, headed for the elevators.

We parked, then began walking back towards the same elevators.

We were halfway across the lot when the girls ran shrieking out from the small elevator lobby.

When you see people, even flighty Asian girls, running and screaming, there is always a little voice in the back of your head that says “Hey, I wonder what they’re running from?”

The little voice didn’t have to wait very long for an answer.

The girls were a third of the way down the entry ramp when HE came out.

I usually nickname people, especially the homeless, that I write about.

But I am kind of coming up snake eyes here.

So a description will have to do.

His skin is grubby white and his hair is a spikey reddish blonde.

He bares a striking resemblance to the heat miser.

And if you have no clue who that is, Google it, choose video and watch it.

In a direct move in the direction of pushing it, we chose to use the elevator.

Surely he’ll like us, right?

Maybe he has a thing about Asians.

As we passed the homeless guy and got on the elevator, we passed within a few feet of him.

This poor fucker was in some sad shape.

I have mentioned the elite homeless in Manhattan Beach, the stellar homeless of Hollywood Blvd.

These people had serious game and were working the biggest stages in the homeless arena.

But Downtown? This is where you go when you got nowhere else to go.

Not a lot of spare change to be had in Downtown.

I have never seen a man with such wildly bloodshot eyes.

I am not sure what drug does that to your eyes, but this guy needs to lay off of it, for Pete’s sake.

At this point, the heavy urine smell is almost endearing.

It was a lot like going to the zoo and getting close to the lion cage, but without the bars, you never know when the lion might attack you.

The lion in this case being a urine smelling, red eyed, meth windigo.

They are so majestic, those homeless in the mist.


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Posted by on February 12, 2013 in Uncategorized


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