As I said ealier, beware all endeavors that begin with "First, fly from New York to Los Angeles"
Anyway, Monday I found myself dealing with a layover of many hours in Los Angeles. I decided to make the most of it and some phonecalls were made and California amigos were contacted.
It's hard for me to wait outside LAX and not have my eye out a black Crown Victoria.
Pardon that digression. Keith picked me up in his green Civic and all sorts of stories were told.
I visited the beach briefly, feeling I should reacquaint myself with the east side of the Pacific as I'd soon be dealing with its west side.
Then we headed over to Rubio's, one of my absolute favorite regional fastfood spots. These are the tacos that taught me not to hate fish.
Grant was on hand.
Keith was still present.
And Broek joined up with us.
Of the four of us, can you guess who doesn't see the sun as much?
It was pretty much my westcoast birthday party. Broek brought party donuts
Get it? Clever, right?
A few more happy hours passed and then it was time to deal with this...
To all of those that took the time to ease my layover suffering: I thank you.