Thursday, October 19, 2006

HOW I LOST MY SWEATER IN LA

Claus says:
Last night I had a quarrel with Thomas because I had done something very stupid, so he yelled at me, but he was also drunk, and so he couldn’t stop yelling, and he just yelled and yelled at me, and in the End I had to go, and so I just started walking in the direction of the car, but the car was in another part of LA and it was the middle of the night and I just walked and walked through the LA, but I didn’t get anywhere and I realised that I had been wrong when I wrote all this about the sidewalks in LA, cause here in the middle of the night there were absolutely no sidewalks in LA, and so I just walked in the side of the road and the cars honked at me. And then finally I came to Santa Monica Boulevard and I was very tired and there was only me and one single car and the right lights, so I just crossed the boulevard anyway, but the car was a police car from Santa Monica Police, and they started that terrible noise they have and U-turned and pulled over at my side, and two policemen, one big white and one smaller and more mexican, came out and started yelling at me, who the fuck you think you are doing! I’m sorry, I said, I’m just a tourist from Denmark on my way to Iran. But they didn’t care about Iran, they told me to “produce” my ID, and so I “produced” them my passport, and they looked at the visa and said, you shouldn’t be out in the streets after dark, you should stay in your hotel with your group. I have no group, I said, I’m just here with my ... but I couldn’t say that word “friend”, not now, when he had just been yelling at me, so instead I said “colleague”, I’m just here with my colleague, I said, and they yelled at me, whatta you mean, colleague, you’re supposed to be tourist! I am, I said, it’s my colleague, he’s also my friend! And so I said it anyway, “friend”, but I don’t even know if it is true any longer, maybe I lied to them, to the LA cops. And then I just wanted to go, but they wouldn’t let me go, you ain’t goin anywhere, man, what you want is, you wanna take a cab right now right here and straight to your hotel! And then they went back into the police car and they just sat there watching me as stood in the darkness trying to stop a taxi or just some kind of car, and after some minutes they rolled down the window and yelled at me, we’ve got the whole night, man, we’re gonna wait here right till we see you get into that cab. But there weren’t any cabs, it was the middle of the night, and just now and then a lonely car passing by. You ain’t runnin’ anywhere, they yelled, no no no, I said, and then finally there came a taxi, and I got into the back seat and I told him to take me straight to the Travelogue up in Westwood. And so he started driving, but then after some minutes when we were half ways up Santa Monica Boulevard I suddenly told him that I had forgotten my car. My car! I said, oh fuck, I’ve forgotten my car! And so he U-turned and started to drive me all the way back to almost where we just came from and down the street, where we had left the car, and as far as I could see there were no police around, so I jumped out and got into our car, but some idiot had parked the car in the corner of a backyard between two pillars, and off course that idiot happened to be me, and I really don’t remember how I got it in there, but now I definitely couldn’t get it out, I tried a bit forward and then a bit backwards, and I opened the door and looked backwards just to be sure, but then there was this sound, like someone opening a very big plastic-box of sushi, and I looked forwards and I realised that our vanilla coloured ironic-retro Chrysler it wasn’t really a car, it was just a joke, a cheap toy made out of plastic, the front part had cracked like the chocolate cover on a vanilla ice cream, and me, I was stuck on the inside, I could hardly get out, and when I finally did, I just sat down on some staircase and started to wait, for what or for who I don’t know, I just waited. And here and there around me the lights at some of the neighbours had been turned on because of the sound of the cracking sushi box, and I could hear them move around like scared little mice behind the doors. But no one dared to come out, and I was too tired to do anything about it, so after an hour or so I just rose up and went out into the street to take another taxi, but it was the middle of the night and the street was completely deserted, so instead I just started to walk, I walked and walked all the way up Wilshire to 24th Street past some Seven Elevens, a club and a small group of young and quite black afro-american guys, and I knew something would happen, and in the moment they started yelling at me, I saw a car passing by, and it looked like a taxi, so I waved my arm, and he pulled to the side, and I got into the back seat. So where you wanna go? he said, I tried to look at him, but it was too dark, I couldn’t really see anything. Up to the Travelogue just north of Westwood Boulevard, I said, but he didn’t answer, he just started driving. And after some minutes I asked him if I could pay with my credit card. No, he said, cash, you gotta pay cash. Oh, I said, but I’m not sure I have that much money cash! Don’t try to play no games with me, he said, you don’t stop a car if you don’t wanna pay! No, no! I said, no no! And then I had to take out one of the bundles of one hundred dollar bills that I save for Iran in the pockets on the inside of my trousers. I gave him a hundred, that all you got? he said, and suddenly I realised, it wasn’t really a taxi, it was just some car and a man. Yeah, I said, that’s all I’ve got. It was a lie, off course it was a lie, I was lying to him, but I thought it would be kind of strange to tell him that I had maybe twelve thousand dollars cash sewn into my trousers, so, well, yeah! I lied. Okay, he said, and pulled to the side, get out! he said. But my money! I said, I gave you one hundred! Yeah, he said, you just get out of my car! I opened the door and immediately he started to drive, and I almost fell out, and before I got up he was gone, it was night, I just stood there alone in the darkness, and I looked around, and I realised, I wasn’t even at the Travelogue yet, I still had to walk another twenty minutes. And then finally, when I reached the motel and I opened the door and I just lay down on the bed without even closing the door behind me, I just lay down and closed my eyes instead, and in that very moment, I realised, that I had lost my sweater.

1 Comments:

Blogger I didn't write this said...

Hi Thomas
This is Vahid; we haven't met yet. The stuff sounds prett hairy in LA. It just sounds like Tehran tome. So you have just warmed up alright in LA before you meet the crack-heads cops and bad-ass cab drivers in Iran!
Claus said you'd enter the "holly land" tomorrow. Good luck!

Cheers

11:37 AM  

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