Monday was my last night in Los Angeles and my friend Tally and her buds David and Erin invited me to hang out with them at a local hangout named Birds. At their suggestion I booked a room three streets down at the Best Western on Franklin, which only turned out to be the same hotel that I stayed in on my very first trip out to L.A. back in the mid-90’s.
Joe had wrapped ‘7th Heaven’ for the day and had time for a sandwich since Terri and the girls were at an event, so he dropped by Birds and grabbed a bite while I drank a couple of beers. We opted for a preposterously cramped sidewalk table next to a table full of girls who completely acted like they didn’t recognize me…. but that was okay because Joe settled into an impromptu surveillance of the building across the street: The Church of Scientology Celebrity Centre (which simply HAD to have been one of the main inspirations for Disney’s Tower of Terror attraction at the Disney-MGM studios park in Orlando). The screaming coming from inside was terrifying.
No, wait, I imagined that part. Mostly there was sidewalk music.
Joe, who at no time said anything derogatory about Scientology (mostly because he likes to work in your town Mr. Xenu), stared in fascination at the old building – speculating that it might in fact be empty because nothing was moving inside – unlike the round residential tower beside the 405 that is consistently packed with silhouetted couples having sex in full display of 5 o’clock traffic.
Maybe them Scientologists are shy.
Eventually Joe saw something move inside the old building, which was, from our best estimates, Tom Cruise preparing for his coronation this coming Saturday. After all, the street was posted to be closed on that day. You celebrity watchers and alien overlord fans might want to take up station across the street that day. Arrive early because parking is going to be at a premium.
Also I think that there is some kind of drug operation run out of the back of a pickup truck full of pinatas that kept driving away and coming back to the same spot. Unless they have pinata delivery in Los Angeles now.
It would be about time.
Finally Tally came outside to stand in front of me to call me, which I watched with some degree of fascination until she saw me watching her call me, which broke the spell (and chased off the pinata guy, AGAIN). Joe was finished with his food and had to head on up above the Valley so I headed inside with Tally and met David and Erin, who has hit upon a really keen way of using her crackberry as a coaster.
They really will save us all, those Blackberries.
Mostly I had fun. And beer.
Birds. Check it out.
Oh, and if you’re feeling stressed stroll across Franklin to the big scary looking building and they’ll give you a free stress test. Don’t do it drunk though or you might wind up in a volcano strapped to Kirstie Alley.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.