The People of Los Angeles

Written 23 Sept 2010, taken from my blog: http://www.getjealous.com/getjealous.php?action=showdiaryentry&diary_id=1841527&go=bridgetkramer

If you've watched enough films or TV shows set in Los Angeles, you'd have a basic predisposition of the characters you'd meet here. Still, seeing these types of people on camera and witnessing them in person are two completely different things. 

I was staying in Santa Monica, and one afternoon I decided to hire a bike and ride along the beach towards Venice. I pulled over to take a photo of something stereotypical of the area, and was approached by a homeless-looking man. Being new in my travels and eager for experiences, I asked him how he was, breaking the fundamental rule for interactions with strangers - "Don't ask anyone how they are". You'd think 4 years of bartending would've drilled that into my mind. 
"I've been better," he said, "I have problems." 
"Oh," I said faux-sympathetically, "That's not good. What kind of problems?" (At this point knowing that his response can only be good.) 
"Well," he sighed, "I have this obsession with lesbians." 
Yep. I'm totally not trying to suppress laughter right now. 
"It's just that," he continued, "I love to watch them, you know? I've been to strip clubs but I'm sick of the women there. They just want my money. Why don't they want to spend time with me? I just want a woman who will have sex with me and another woman but not pay for it." 
At this point, I'm trying to turn the suppressed laughter into a sympathetic smile, and start to bring out the classic counselling cliches I've perfected over my years of bartending. 
"Don't worry," said I, "You'll find someone right for you, when you least expect it." 
"These sluts that have hurt me deserve to be turned to fertiliser." 
Oh. Wow, it's like that. And here is when I realised I was on a bike, and could easily cycle away from the situation while saying, "I hope you find what you're looking for, take care!" Pedal. Pedal. Pedal faster! 


It's a stereotype that public buses in Los Angeles are for crazy people. Being a poor backpacker, I wasn't about to pay for a taxi, so I hopped on a bus headed for Downtown L.A., soon realising the only white people on the bus were other tourists. I clearly chose the wrong seat that day. A man sat across from me, and started to sing Lionel Richie songs at me. With me Smiling (out of nervousness, more than anything), he took that as an invitation to start talking. Not much of it made sense, but I did get the general theme - dead celebrities. I don't know exactly how old he thought I was, but he kept asking if I remember when Isaac Hayes performed at a music festival in the 80s. To me, Isaac Hayes is Chef from South Park, his career before that is unbeknownst to me. With more singing, dead celebrity stories and then some talking right in my face, he said "You fine girl" and got off the bus. Right. 

About two stops after dead-celebrity guy got off, a bulky bald man in a wife beater took his seat across from me, said hello to me, and the proceeded to do lifts on the poles in the bus that standing passengers hold onto. I think he was on his way to the vitamin store. 

But my favourite crazy-person-encounter would have to be a man in Venice Beach, who just stands in the middle of the walkway holding a sign that states, "Pigeons ate my parents." Outstanding.

• Los Angeles
• crazy
• public transport