tooling around hollywood, minding my own business, i got a request from a guy who it turned out is a movie producer with some DUIs who wanted me to drive him all the way to the most northwest part of the valley: the star studded Calabasas.
he was attending a party of an long-time chum, a gentleman who is basically running the most impressive production company in movies. to get there we went through a lot of traffic, picked up a half dozen bags of ice for the party, and had to go through some pretty serious security gates before we slowly climbed the hill to the guy’s mansion.
because there were so many bags of ice, the passenger asked me if i could bring in three bags with him.
here is where i should tell you the only recurring
dream nightmare ive ever had. one thats haunted me since i was a little kid. i dream that im in someone’s house who i dont know, uninvited. and i can’t get out.
we walk into the house, theres people everywhere, we go through two living rooms, and then the huge kitchen. the homeowner is cutting some meat, people surrounding him, helping, but our bags of ice are now freezing our arms, so we are let out into the back yard, which is also huge, tables, table settings, ah an outdoor bar, also huge, and behind it a huge ice chest, which we fill.
as i walk to exit, my passenger disappears among his friends and i realize im not only in a house where no one knows me, but in the backyard and i have to go back through that huge, home, wearing a hawaiian shirt and cubs hat, by myself, obviously guilty of something
and all my nightmares gave me such a flashback. it was cool and creepy at the same time.
got in the car, saw the whole trip was only $45. for an hour drive? didnt see right. i paid more than that in a cab from LAX to Hollywood. whatever. at least i saw the same block Bieber and the Kardashians lived in.
asked Siri where the local Jack in the Box was, and while i was heading there, got beeped by a rich persian mom and her daughter who wanted to go to Brentwood. thanks, Obama.