But I must have just missed him.
It’s time for breakfast so we’re sitting in a trendy cafe, in a trendy neighbourhood, in a trendy city called Los Angeles. The waitress reeled off more names. Heath Ledger and Naomi Watts bought coffee there, she said emphatically. But if you really wanted to see celebrities, she whispered, you have to go to 101 Cafe. Funny, we were there the night before, and all we got was poor service. Our waiter had started taking orders in our group, but before he finished, he suddenly swung round and started talking to the booty-packing, bling-bling showing, sunglass-wearing threesome behind us. He did that twice before he finally walked to me to get my order. I berated myself for leaving my leopard print leggings, 80′s make-up and attitude at home. Still, I must say the bowl of bite-size fruit tasted quite fine for US$7.
It’s time for lunch so we’re walking around Farmer’s Market, a pseudo hawker centre with stalls selling fresh food and produce. There are plastic chairs and tables, and I suspect, some more plastic in the humans milling around the (dare I say it) TRENDY open-air market. The woman at the table beside us has big hair, big boobs, a short skirt and stiletto heels. She teetered over to her chair and surveyed the scene as passers-by surveyed her. I didn’t see her eat anything while I gulped down my Laksa made by an ang moh in a stall called Banana Leaf, which purported to sell Singapore/Malaysian/Indonesian cuisine. I hope people don’t think we’re all one country.
It’s time to get to the airport so we’re stuck in traffic. There are 10 freeway lanes going in either directions in this city and there is still a car before and after our rental Kia. All around us, the drivers are yapping on their cellphones while keeping their hair coiffed in the breeze. Incidentally, every other person here drives a convertible. Everyone is beautiful, important, and making deals while stuck in traffic on their way to the tanning salon.
It’s an LA thing.
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