This morning I left my host's apartment in San Francisco and held my breath while walking down the street because it smelled like urine. Did I mention that last night I was offered drugs? At least a woman asked me if I "wanted any" and while "any" can mean lots of different things I'm going to guess from the other activity on the street that she was trying to sell me drugs.
Michael gave me a ride to San Jose for my ten hour train ride to Los Angeles. Every inch of the trip was beautiful. It's amazing how many people live in the middle of nowhere. Then suddenly we'd come to a place with like a hundred houses and there would be a train stop. The first half of the trip was all brown and green and the second half was along the gorgeous Pacific Ocean. It was fun being waved to by people on the beach.
The craziest part of this trip was my kosher food. I was really excited to get meals on the train because I hadn't eaten any real food for like forty eight hours. Besides the not-so-convenient availability of food and being slightly jetlagged in that my body didn't know when it needed food, I had been surviving on junk food and ice cream for two days. The banana split at Ghirardelli's had fruit-- that counts for something, right? Suddenly my body was like "hey, I need protein."
First I spoke to Ken. He was in charge of food arrangements. He told me that Gino, the guy who worked in my car, could bring the meal straight to my seat. Gino said he had to talk to Ken. Together they discovered that my food was being loaded onto the train at Santa Barbara, another hour away. This was after several hours of waiting and extreme hunger. Finally we arrived in Santa Barbara. Ken and Gino came to my seat with nervous smiles on their faces. Apparently the food that was delivered was raw kosher chicken. Great. So I carefully explained to Ken that my chicken could be double-wrapped and heated in the oven. They were so apologetic and didn't even charge me for the meal. It was cute because they also double wrapped the bowl of salad they brought me. Finally around 7 I got dinner. Mmmm protein. A random homeless lady at Union Station in LA got the rest of the chicken. Beats the drugs which seemed to make up most of what she was consuming.
Now I'm at my friend's house in LA. I hadn't seen her in like five years, so it's pretty awesome. Any suggestions of what to do tomorrow?
2 comments:
That's a fantastic story (and picture of Spotty). I approve.
P.S. Apparently my kosher meals were on the train today instead. Who's responsible? The person who reserved the meals for me? Maybe, but that opens a whole other can of worms.
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