ripped from fonic's blog..
i meet the damndest people at the 7-11 on Wilshire and Wilton. once there were three shifty Latino guys in the back, near the beers, who kept gesturing for me to peer into their ice cooler. all the various homeless. one of them, a white guy, looks like he turned homeless recently. or maybe he just likes mulling around and opening doors for people for the hell of it. and the spare change, thats just for kicks. today, some white guy holding a carton of milk was talking out loud to no one in particular, something about Las Vegas and getting a plastic catheter shoved up his dick. he stuck his head through the door several times, like he was talking to the clerk. but the clerk wasnt paying attention and the man held a conversation with himself.
something about the location undoubtedly attracts shady activities. and i'm no exception to that rule as i can attest to having score a variety of drugs in that very parking lot that would make a pharmacist blush.
since i'm not a ktown dweller like fonic, my own wilshire & wilton is the sav-on on cahuenga between hollywood and yucca. the great thing about sav-on is that you can get just enough there to survive but not quite enough to thrive, kind of like the latest outkast album. i mean, c'mon, the two discs are ok but lets not fool ourselves into believing that a lame statue of a gramaphone makes the speakerboxxx and the love below better than southernplayalisticadillacmuzik.
but i digress. allergy season is in full swing so i went to sav-on yesterday, prescription (legit, promise!) and insurance information in hand ready to receive my pharmaceutical salvation. the cast of characters at the sav-on never fails to disappoint, part because its close to the greyhound bus station and also because--let's face it--its effin hollywood.
exhibit #1 was bull of a man sporting a sleeveless mesh shirt and hot pants with the ass hanging out the back. although he could've been an nfl linebacker, i've no doubt that this fella played tight end.
exhibit #2 was a pair of supersized females that were employing the divide and conquer method of economic stimulation. one lady took her cart to the cosmetics side of the store and the other was on the what is supposed pass as the food section. they were clucking on their cellys, trying to figure out which kids they brought into the store with them and which kids were still in the car. "wait, no, wait, wait, i got ricky and bobby with me. and you got johnny. is ralph, ronnie, and michael in the car or are they with you?" what is this, fuckin new edition??!?!?
my encounter with exhibit #3 happened when i was perusing the alcohol section admiring the fact that sapphire AND vermouth were on sale. a gentlemen in a motorized cart asked me to hand him a sixer of bud light that was in the cooler as it was on the top shelf and out of his reach.
"cans or bottles?" i asked
he replied, "bottles. but they're for my wife. i'm driving."
i did my best to laugh good naturedly at his self deprication. he grinned and threw his cart in reverse to make his purchase and get on home. i guess he had been drinking and driving because dude ends up knocking over half of the bottled guiness display, busting bottles and filling the air of the scent of a dozen surly brits. sensing danger, he guns the throttle and screeches off towards the registers.
the noise attracted the attention of one of the store's employees who looked at the mess on the floor and sighed before pulling out one of those 'wet floor' plastic thingies and retreating to the back for a mop.
i wonder if he was more miffed by the spilt beer or the skidmarks that the dude's cart left on the formica.
i meet the damndest people at the 7-11 on Wilshire and Wilton. once there were three shifty Latino guys in the back, near the beers, who kept gesturing for me to peer into their ice cooler. all the various homeless. one of them, a white guy, looks like he turned homeless recently. or maybe he just likes mulling around and opening doors for people for the hell of it. and the spare change, thats just for kicks. today, some white guy holding a carton of milk was talking out loud to no one in particular, something about Las Vegas and getting a plastic catheter shoved up his dick. he stuck his head through the door several times, like he was talking to the clerk. but the clerk wasnt paying attention and the man held a conversation with himself.
something about the location undoubtedly attracts shady activities. and i'm no exception to that rule as i can attest to having score a variety of drugs in that very parking lot that would make a pharmacist blush.
since i'm not a ktown dweller like fonic, my own wilshire & wilton is the sav-on on cahuenga between hollywood and yucca. the great thing about sav-on is that you can get just enough there to survive but not quite enough to thrive, kind of like the latest outkast album. i mean, c'mon, the two discs are ok but lets not fool ourselves into believing that a lame statue of a gramaphone makes the speakerboxxx and the love below better than southernplayalisticadillacmuzik.
but i digress. allergy season is in full swing so i went to sav-on yesterday, prescription (legit, promise!) and insurance information in hand ready to receive my pharmaceutical salvation. the cast of characters at the sav-on never fails to disappoint, part because its close to the greyhound bus station and also because--let's face it--its effin hollywood.
exhibit #1 was bull of a man sporting a sleeveless mesh shirt and hot pants with the ass hanging out the back. although he could've been an nfl linebacker, i've no doubt that this fella played tight end.
exhibit #2 was a pair of supersized females that were employing the divide and conquer method of economic stimulation. one lady took her cart to the cosmetics side of the store and the other was on the what is supposed pass as the food section. they were clucking on their cellys, trying to figure out which kids they brought into the store with them and which kids were still in the car. "wait, no, wait, wait, i got ricky and bobby with me. and you got johnny. is ralph, ronnie, and michael in the car or are they with you?" what is this, fuckin new edition??!?!?
my encounter with exhibit #3 happened when i was perusing the alcohol section admiring the fact that sapphire AND vermouth were on sale. a gentlemen in a motorized cart asked me to hand him a sixer of bud light that was in the cooler as it was on the top shelf and out of his reach.
"cans or bottles?" i asked
he replied, "bottles. but they're for my wife. i'm driving."
i did my best to laugh good naturedly at his self deprication. he grinned and threw his cart in reverse to make his purchase and get on home. i guess he had been drinking and driving because dude ends up knocking over half of the bottled guiness display, busting bottles and filling the air of the scent of a dozen surly brits. sensing danger, he guns the throttle and screeches off towards the registers.
the noise attracted the attention of one of the store's employees who looked at the mess on the floor and sighed before pulling out one of those 'wet floor' plastic thingies and retreating to the back for a mop.
i wonder if he was more miffed by the spilt beer or the skidmarks that the dude's cart left on the formica.
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by the way...i've got one nut left and a hankering for revenge.
'til next time, my man....