Random Occurances & Traffic Reports

In keeping with my current coffee obsession, I went to the Bourgeois Pig last night on Franklin before joining Hiko for Grey’s Anatomy. I sat at an outside table with my back against the café and facing the street. After consuming only 25% of my latté (which by the way totally pales in comparison to Aroma Cafe) there was a huge BANG*CRASH right directly smack dab in front of me!!

I looked up from my book. A woman going at least 55 miles per hour Westbound on Franklin plowed into a car the valet was just about to drive away. Everyone sitting outside stood up watching as she drove away and started screaming at her to stop - which she did, albeit a block later.

Basically, the woman hit the open door of the parked vehicle which over-extended and then snapped back as if it were closing (which is now impossible.) When the door snapped back, it hit the valet who jumped back but shielded himself from the door with his arm. As it was a convertible, the window had no metal frame around it and the force of the impact into his arm shattered the glass into the road in a sizeable explosion.

Then we saw the poor valet walk away from the now banged-up car that he was about to get into. He stood at the curb and looked down at his arm. There was a 5 inch piece of glass sticking out of it. “Oh my God,” he said in total shock. “Holy shit!”

He was instructed to sit. He plopped his ass down on the curb and immediately fell backward into a lying down position. Someone got a couple of cloth restaurant napkins and tore them to make a tourniquet for his left arm. Other people were calling 9-1-1.

The owner of the banged-up car was a pretty chill white dude in his late 20s early 30s. Let’s call him Bill, shall we? Bill came over to the valet and Bill’s girlfriend sat down on the asphalt next to the valet and started caressing the valet’s chest to calm and soothe him. Bill was very selfless re: his car and didn’t mention anything about it. He was concentrating on the valet and his well-being.

Then the lady who hit Bill’s car finally arrived and immediately started tearing into both Bill and the valet. “Why would you open the door just then?! Why don’t you look where you’re going?!” Bill gave her his most intimidating glare and told her to calm down and back the fuck up. He then moved her a few yards away so as not to aggravate the injured valet.

The valet lay there and got one of his hombres to bring him a cigarette which he then tried to light but the paramedics showed up and snatched the cigarette away.

As it turned out, it wasn’t glass sticking out of his arm - it was his bone. Ewwwwwww.

The paramedics took the valet away and cleaned all the blood up off the sidewalk but left the glass in the street. The police showed up 10 minutes later and were pissed that Bill had moved his car out of the road. Of course when this first happened and I noticed the valet was going to live, my initial thought was to sweep the glass up out of the road. I almost went and got a broom from one of the local merchants. Thank goodness I didn’t. I didn’t realize it was “tampering with evidence” and a punishable offense.

Well, coffee in large quantities might be bad for you but it sure brings on the excitement!

If you’ve read earlier blogs of mine re: my apartment building, you’ll remember that there are Armenians taking over the common areas. They’re mostly friendly and don’t bite but they sure as hell make their presence known.

In recent months, an older woman who lives across the way, who I’ve since come to find out is named Nora, has become very interested in me and Brad. She’s taken to bringing us “Armenian” candies and cookies. Usually the candy she forces on us is a small rectangular chocolate looking thing that is in a yellow wrapper.

Unsuspectingly Brad and I eagerly shoved the 2 inch morsels in our pie holes and realized it’s some sort of chocolate and pineapple atrocity. I’m sorry but chocolate should not include fruit flavors that are not of the berry variety. It’s just wrong. Those of you out there that like chocolate and orange are just plain out of your minds! Yuck!

The other day, Nora approaches me on the balcony and asks me if I am moving. This involves a lot of hand gestures and mumbled syllables as she barely speaks English and my collegiate Russian is failing me. When I finally understand her question, I tell her that I am not moving and what makes her think such a thing? (Where else am I going to find a cheap rent controlled apartment with tons of closet space that is this central and this spacious? I mean, come on!) She says she noticed a lot of boxes in my dining room, stacked up to the ceiling.

Did I mention how nosy my neighbors are? No? My neighbors are the Armenian Big Brother, if you will. (It’s actually something I like about living here, believe it or not. I am never afraid of break-ins or other such things as I know they’re always in the common areas and always giving all unrecognized faces the evil eye, Armenian style.)

Keep in mind that my blinds have been closed since I bought my new computer last spring - so as not to entice potential thieves - Armenian evil eye or not.

I explain to Nora that I just have a lot of boxes because I mail stuff to people and because …

She must realize how inappropriate we whiteys find their spying ways and responds with, “You like the coffee? I go make you the coffee. Good coffee. Turkish coffee. Like Armenian coffee. Turkish coffee. Same.”

I start sweating a little, thinking, “How closely is she watching me? How does she know that the venti vanilla latté Brad brought me a few hours ago is already wearing off?! Either she’s really spying or I’m more obsessed/addicted than I thought! Am I developing a coffee withdrawal twitch?!”

(For all the coffee I drink lately, I really should just invest the $400 in an amazing espresso machine with frother and some vanilla syrup. Add to that expense whatever it costs to bribe a barista to come teach me how to use the machine. Ella, how much would you charge me to teach me a lesson? I am addicted to Starbucks Vanilla Lattés - it should be illegal. And I know, I know - I’ve always been anti-Starbucks & anti-huge establishment but ever since Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf did away with the pink punch cards, there’s just no point in driving the extra mile when there’s a Starbucks on every corner! I miss that little surge of energy of getting that $4 free coffee every time I’ve paid for 12. Although, sometimes when I go to the Starbucks on Ventura and Louise in Sherman Oaks, Ella is working and I get an extra shot of espresso or even a free coffee! But I digress…)

Not only do I really want some coffee but I’m always refusing whatever it is she’s trying to give me (afraid of the chocolate pineapple crap.) So I decide to take her up on the offer. Maybe she’s just trying to poison me so she can come in and steal all the empty boxes she’s got her eye on. But I throw caution into the wind - she’s offering me coffee for Chrissakes.

She goes into her apartment and I’m left standing there on the balcony like an ass. I start to feel bad. Here’s a woman living in an apartment with 3 generations of people that she cooks and cleans for day and night and now she’s in there making me special coffee.

Then she comes out with a demitasse of tar. She smiles at me as if to say, “Go ahead. Make my day.” *Gulp.

But I don’t want to be rude, so I drink the thick black so-called coffee. “Mmmmm…” I say as she starts to put chocolate pineapple crap on the saucer along with another Armenian ‘treat’ in shiny silver and blue foil with the words “The Lazy Bear” printed on it and a picture of the aforementioned mammal. I cringe.

She finally walks away only to return with another plate loaded with funny looking Armenian cookies that have rye seeds in them and sesame seeds on top of some brown (caramelized sugar?) paste. Greeeeeaaaaaat.

I have to admit, although I end up throwing out the cookies and chocolate pineapple crap, The Lazy Bear is excellent.

So lately, I’m coffee obsessed. I don’t mean I like coffee every now and then, I mean STICK A FREAKING COFFEE I.V. IN MY ARM AND KEEP THEM COMING! I haven’t had this much coffee since finals at college.

So I’ve been doing the rounds to all the coffee houses in LA county. I plan to branch out to Orange County, Ventura County, Riverside, San Bernardino…

There’s a particularly lovely spot in Encino on Ventura Blvd. just East of Lindley Ave. called the Aroma Café. Keep in mind that you’ll immediately break out in a terrible rash if you have a Nazi bone in your body because this is an Israeli establishment. There are so many Jews in this place that you’d think you’d start speaking Hebrew simply from osmosis. There are Russian Jews, Persian Jews, Moroccan Jews, Yemenite Jews… lions and tigers and Jews, oh my!

The waitresses are all very cute and exotic looking. They all have Israeli names like Yael and Michal and other names made up of sounds that no human throat can make. Just try to pronounce it and they all laugh at you.

The coffee at Aroma is not only delicious (and moderately overpriced) but beautiful!

I’m in love. And look! The coffee loves me back. Awwwwwwww…

Who would have thought Brad and his best friend The Owl would start a fashion craze??

I really wanted the dress but it only comes in small.  Damn.