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About Los Angeles

I’d finally spot one, okay? Some chick in fishnets, leanin’ on a wall, and I’m like, “Oh god, oh god, what now?” I’d stumble over, all nervous, sayin’, “Hey, uh, you workin’?” She’d smirk—SMIRK!—and I’d be furious! “Don’t judge me, lady, I herd sheep all day!” I’d haggle, too, ‘cause I’m cheap— “Twenty bucks, that’s it, take it or leave it!” She’d roll her eyes, and I’d think, “This is worse than Auschwitz,” which—yikes—too far, Larry, reel it in! But that’s my brain, ping-pongin’ like Saul’s, from panic to dark humor.

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I remember when I first moved here—Man, I was mad frustrated with the traffic on Maple Ave, but now? I find it sorta charming. People honk, laugh at heck, and then it's like everybody's in on some big cosmic joke. Ain't that somethin’? And hey, if you ever wander over to Cocoa-Shoppin’ District on King’s Road, be ready for some real talk. I once met a lady talkin’ about her wild youth on that very street! Crazy, right?

Cocoa: A Bittersweet Supply Chain