LA Confidential

The Pacific Wild West Continues...
(see prior post from today)

So, in all excitement of the uninvited kind, here some other L.A. crime and punishment, wild west experiences and lessons I’ve compiled in my time here in L.A.

* Yes, there are freeways in our backyards here… One evening, a few years back, I heard a LOUD crash and looked outside to see that a car had flown off the freeway exit and directly into my backyard. As a former Ms. Heartland Good Samaritan, I, of course, went outside to see if the driver was OK before calling 911. Turns out, it was a stolen vehicle. Moments later, by the time the fire department and the police arrived, all the shadowy occupants had fled on foot.
Lesson: Always call 911 first. Many good samaritans have perished while doing their good deeds.

* Close encounters of the high-end SUV kind: After having a close encounter with a black SUV Mercedes while rollerblading along Ventura Blvd, I learned the lesson that:
The WALK signal is not sacred anywhere in L.A. and even when being cautious it’s hard to make eye contact with a driver through Mercedes-tinted windows.

* Shoot-em Ups in broad daylight: When you’re at work in your benign coffee shop job and you hear gunshots coming from a bank robbery next door and customers are locking themselves in the customer bathroom, it’s never a good sign, but makes for interesting conversation starters for the rest of the day.
Lesson: And yet another good reason not to bank with B of A (Bank of America.)

* The Homeless don't always have empty pockets: Shortly after I parked my car, early one morning, I saw a homeless man walk by, cross the street, and pull a knife on someone and start shouting obscenities.
Lesson: It’s never too early to put the LAPD crime hotline on speed-dial.

* And in regards to writing: My car was once broken into in a snatch-and-grab incident. What did they steal? My screenplay notes…I kid you not…oh, and my checkbook ( cute Linus & Lucy checks) and a Ralph Lauren bag I’d inherited from my time as a Dillard’s sales associate. As I endured annoyingly little, bitty cuts from the slivers of shattered window glass underneath my front seats, I mostly cried about the loss of the screenplay notes. I ended dumpster hunting 3 blocks in each direction looking for my writing notebook to no avail.
Lesson: Have your writing notebook with you at all times…never ever lose sight of the notebook. (It’s L.A.--you never know--even the homeless with the knife may very well be in search of the next, great indie film that just so happens to be completed outlined and detailed in your little notebook.

*Photo credit: Donna France*