Friday, May 27, 2011

Back Alley Dork

Yesterday I was walking down a back alley way behind my house. In L.A., back alley ways are not like in the east coast, they are not narrow, dimly lit, rat infested scary crime scenes. They are usually paved roads, sometimes sandy or pebbly, with the gated backs of houses on either side, sometimes there is bouganvilla along the gates, or graffiti on the garage doors. They are still crime scenes, just sunny ones. A lot of times in a Quentin Tarantino or Ice T movie these back alleys are where cars speed away, or people sneak in to houses where 5 people are nodding out in the darkened and smoke-filled living-rooms.

Harry and I used to play handball back there, and once at dusk a car with a blaring alarm shot down the road going so fast, probably around 50, that we had to press ourselves up against the fence to stay out of the way. Anyway, yesterday I was walking the dogs when I looked over and there were two cops with their guns drawn and heads leaning gently against the side of the house, listening. I stopped, deer in headlights style, and one of the cops (a woman) (they were both wearing blue windbreakers, but she had a ponytail) waved at me. The thing about it was the wave wasn’t a get the hell out of here moron kind of wave, it was the kind of wave a dork walking down a middle school hallway gives to a person who is not yet a friend but hopefully will be one soon. It was so sweet and shy and friendly that I almost stepped towards her and said, “hey what’s goin on, can I play?” But then she waved again and I realized it really was a get the fuck out of here you colossal idiot wave.

Say no more.

I walked around the corner and back on to the main street where all was calm and quiet and a woman with wet hair and a steaming mug of coffee was getting into her car to go to work.

No comments:

Post a Comment