Speaking of LA... again

I've been meaning to tell y'all about this, but y'all know how I get...

So after my roadtrip I decide that I need to take some clothes to the cleaners. Since I had been living out of a suitcase for 2 weeks it seemed only right. Considering the number of button up shirts I brought that hadn't seen an iron in a while, not to mention my suit, I figured I'd shell out the loot and just get it done. So the day after I arrived I got up early, ok not really, but I did leave early. Though for me that was about 11am. Rarely, do I ever get to that place before 2pm (that place being my favorite cleaners). Especially on a Sunday. But I got up and got it done. No big deal.

Now to the point of the story. On my way home I take the scenic route. Getting off the freeway several miles from my home in order to take the main drag of my communal suburb of LA proper (which for the record still counts as the City of Los Angeles, one giant suburban town I tells ya). If you live in the NoHo area I'll give you one guess as to the name of the street. Here's a guess. It starts with an 'L'. So I'm cruisin' enjoying this bright summer morning in So Cal until I notice one of the more unusual sites I have ever seen in California. On the opposite side of the street is a guy of possibly Mexican decent. He was tan, shirtless, relatively buff, with what appears to be either a weight belt or back brace around his waist. He is riding a mountain bike with no hands, as they are in front of him, one holding the other as though he were giving a speech. He had on a fresh pair of stone khaki's, crisp white gym shoes (maybe K-swiss) with dark black sunglasses and a baseball cap that, if memory serves, matched his pants pulled down on his head. Yeah, the bill He appeared to be staring straight ahead as he rode. Keep in mind I notice this guy several seconds before we passed each other. Mostly because I was wondering why he didn't have a shirt on (it wasn't that hot that day) and then it looked like he was wearing khaki's. And that weird ass weight belt. He could have been in a Gap ad, or more accurately Abercrombie & Fitch. So I noted this interesting site as I drove and would have paid it no mind if not for what happened next. As we were about to pass each other, me in my car, he on the other side of the street on his bike, he appeared to turn his head in my direction and threw up a gang sign. Arms arced on either side of him with has hands contorted into some shape I couldn't describe then and certainly won't try now. How interesting. He didn't appear to have any noticeable tattoos and I can't be certain he was looking at me. But he wasn't menacing about it. It was almost like he was saying "wassup" to a homie. Whether that was me or someone else... who knows. But that definitely was some surreal shit. Had this happened in anywhere else I might have been surprised. But I live in LA. Homeless people have conversations with trash cans outside my office downtown. And besides, I'm from Detroit...

In other uneventfulness in LA a couple weeks ago I an older black man in Bentley gave me the ice grill as I was leaving the Burger King down the street from work. It was a Saturday night and I was picking up some eats for when I got home. I looped around the parking lot and noted how slick this ride was as I was passing it. It had the look of a car that you wanted to be careful around. As I passed the passenger I noticed it was a brotha. Possibly in his mid to late 50's. A big guy. Could have been a former football player or something. But he was definitely pimpin' the whip as though he was in his 20's. Left hand on the wheel leaning to the side with his right hand holding a cell to his ear. And he had a really nice suit on. Now that I think about it in the night light it almost matched the silvery color of the car. Of course I got the cold leery stare as I passed by. Almost like he was saying, "Wassup, nigga." And not in a good way. Since I have been told I look like that naturally I took no offense and paid it no mind. Actually I was just happy to see a brotha pushing a ride like that. More power too him. It almost gave me hope that I could have one one day. Not sure why exactly. I don't know that guy from Adam.


Next time, on A Life More Ordinary: Crazy LA women & the men that try to avoid them... namely me.