moral of the story?
when i was 15 or so, me and my then boyfriend went to LA for a sonic youth show. we decided to scope out the joint hours ahead of time; driving past the good ol' el rey theatre, we see a small sign, "sonic youth show moved to---", the oh so important information couldn't be deciphered. we devised a plan: we'd flip a 'u', at the light that would most likely be red- i'd jump out of the car, run up to the sign, read it, and jump back into the car at the next light that would most likely be red [ridiculously brilliant scheme]. so, just as planned- i jump out of his '76 nova and sprint down wilshire to my destination: quickest indie kid i ever did know! these sidewalks are amazing- about 7 foot wide and littered with glitter. i see a business man approaching: black suit- complete with a tie, top hat, and briefcase. i get closer and quickly realize this man has dumpster dove for his garb and has a finger up his nose. i attempt to glide to the opposite side of the walkway as to not invade his space. but he has a plan himself: without taking his finger out of his nose, he calmly steps into my path and with one swoop of his leg- trips me. i fall to the ground, skinning my pale knees. he never looked back at me, and, to the best of my knowledge, he is still picking his nose.
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