Katie Doyle, Girl About Town

Sunday, Apr. 18, 2004 - 5:24 p.m.

I really HAVE to start taking my camera with me when I go out from now on. In the past week I have seen many, many things I wished I had a camera for, not the least of which was a car completely loaded down to the absolute max with garbage bags FULL of what I surmised to be recyclables, since the one bag that I could actually see into was chock full o' plastic cups and nothin' but plastic cups. Seriously, this car was whack, yo. (hi, joey) The trunk was open all the way and was crammed as full of garbage bags as it could possibly be. Then on top of the fully open trunk, wedged in between it and the rear window, and then piled up on top of that and spilling both over the back edge of the fully open trunk and onto the roof of the car in front of it, there were still more bags. And bags tied to the sides of the car, like poorly hung saddlebags on a gigantic horse in some cutrate B-western. They were also tied to the back bumper, and had sagged until they were only barely clearing the ground. Which is why I could seen into the trunk. The clearish bag I could see into was one of the ones with a think margin of clearance above the pavement. It was a thing to marvel, and I've absolutely no idea why a policeman hadn't stopped the woman driving, because there is NO WAY that was legal, in the slightest. As I drove past, I looked to see what the inside looked like, and every seat but the driver's seat was filled to the level of the windows with crap. It was astonishing. I have to wonder what in ever-lovin' hell this woman's house looks like, because holy moly, that was a lot of trash. And all of it lumbering down Ventura Boulevard, smackdab in the middle of Encino, headed for Sherman Oaks and possibly the 405. It was just bizarre.

I also saw a black Hummer (not the aforementioned pretentiously "cute" and smaller H2, but a fullsized pretentiously obnoxious 8' wide Hummer), with a brand new stylized American flag painted all drawn out and bannerlike across the side of the damn vehicle, over the hood in all it's starspangled glory, and then back down the other side again. It was sort of styled like a turn-of-the-century banner one might see hung in a hall where Teddy Roosevelt was stomping for re-election and was unbelievably obnoxious and Republican. I'm all for the flag and all that, but a staunchly flag-waving friend of mine once shook his head and said "you just shouldn't wear the flag," when he saw a girl all decked out in a vest made to look like the flag, and I have to second that with neither should your car. That would have been my photo of the day, but then 15 minutes later, I passed the Trash Lady, and she took the cake.

Do people drive Hummers in other parts of the country? Because until I moved here, I'd never seen one. I think when you live in a place as big and wide as Texas, you have the good sense not to drive a vehicle that gets 5 miles to the gallon, on the highway, and serves no real purpose other than to ferry passengers. But maybe that's just me.

The other thing that happened this week was that when I went in to one of my bead stores to get an item I didn't know I was out of and need to finish a project (how in hell can I be out of 6mm amethyst AB bicones???), there was a woman there who looked vaguely familiar, but not enough so to try to figure out where I know her from, until she got a cell call and turned sideways to me. Between the sound of her voice and her profile, I knew I knew her from somewhere, so when she hung up, I apologized, said she looked familiar, and since usually when I recognize someone like that, it's from my experience of many years of thankless table waiting, I asked if she ever used to eat at one of 2 restaurants in the area in which I used to work. She had eaten at one, she said, but it was a long time ago. I said well, I used to wait there a long time ago, and I figured that was that, but it kept bugging me. You know how your brain keeps worrying at a puzzle until it gets the right answer? I knew that wasn't it, so after a minute, I asked if she was a teacher. No. I dropped my voice. An actor? She kinda smiled and said she'd been on tv, yes. So I said that's it, thanked her, and went my merry way.

Half an hour later at work, I stopped dead in my tracks right in the middle of singing "Here Comes the Sun" under my breath, as it all suddenly clicked, and I realized the woman in the bead store was Marcia Clark. As in, Los Angeles Co. District Attorney Marcia Clark. As in, the OJ Simpson trial. And I had to laugh. "I've been on tv, yes." Marcia, you understater, you.

Peace out,
Katie

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