So the plan was to get up at 8 but of course that didn't happen. We got to the beach around 10 though, so it wasn't bad at all. We went for Santa Monica Pier and found it devoid of all human activity, which was perfect in my mind. All I wanted to do was lay in the sand for a while anyhow. Since I draw my power from the yellow sun it was a fitting way to recharge in my mind.
Laying on the beach is therapeutic. Try laying on the beach and thinking of your problems. Pretty hard to do, if you ask me. There's just something about being on the sand in the sun, with the smell of the sea and the breeze blowing in your face that will Obliviate! your problems. The beach is a wizard. I would guess Hufflepuff.
The activity level on the beach stayed pretty low throughout the day. There were few people there although there was a promising gaggle of females that turned out to all be under the age of 16. Luckily Kyle's skillfull eye caught on to this fact before we did anything rash like purposefully throw our football into their beach towels while they sunbathed. We're original like that.
We threw around the football, kicked around the soccerball, played on the playground, and soaked up the sun until about 2 PM. Around that time the beach started to pick up significantly in terms of activity, but we were about done with this beach so we decided to head off to the next one. On the way we saw the Hollywood sign, so I checked that off my bucket list and blasted Miley Cyrus while dancing out of the sunroof.
We made a pit stop to drop off our rented boogie boards and pick up my MINI. Luckily I only had to pay TWO THOUSAND FLIPPIN SMACKERS to have all four wheels replaced and the brake pads replaced. I guess I forgot to mention that my tires were starting to rip they were in such bad shape. When I checked my MINI in we had inspected the tires together and the service guy was shocked that the tire was still intact. He pointed out that the tires were actually cracking and peeling horizontally across the treads. That plus my brake pads being so worn out - yeah I should have died, but the magic of California sustained the MINI.
There is a stretch of beaches in LA that we hit up afterwards. The beaches are Manhattan Beach (which we had visited the day before), Hermosa Beach (Spanish for beautiful) and Redondo Beach (Rajan Rondo?). We decided to hit up Hermosa and Redonda beaches this time and walk their piers. Kyle broke out his ukulele and we proceeded to fulfill one of his lifelong dreams: to play the uke on the beach. I think there was a second part of that dream that involved serenading a beautiful woman while on the beach playing the uke, but one dream at a time, people.
We played and sang to random people passing by until we saw the most perfectly formed female from across the beach and hypnotically gathered our gear and followed after. It wasn't just us either, we realized. The entire beach would stop as this woman passed by and just stare. The homeless potsmokers would all whistle and cat call, but everyone else would literally stop walking, watch her go by, and then continue on their way. Kyle tried to tell me that he's seen more beautiful woman in Portugal but I don't believe him. This was the pinnacle of human form and you might get another human that looks similar, but there is no "better looking" than what we witnessed that day. It's like the human form fits into different classes, and while there is variation within the class, everything in that class carries the same attributes. Like a scale of 1-10. All 10's don't look alike, but all 10's are 10's. You can't really say that one 10 is more attractive than another 10. They're both 10's. This woman was of course a 13 easy.
Anyhow, we wandered the pier and recovered our senses in time to get on some beach cruisers and ride the length of the beaches, about 10 miles round trip. Kyle elected to rollerblade while B-Reil and I hoped on the cruisers.
The only thing missing from the bike ride was a little bell to ring at people as they passed. There were a bunch of people on the trail, but not so many as to be crowded or annoying. I settled for yelling "ring ring" at people but it's just not the same. Regardless, the ride was just as magical as any other aspect of LA had been. Just imagine cruising up and down 10 miles of west coast beach at sunset while yelling "ring ring" at people. Man I love California.
The bike/rollerblade ride ended and we begrudgingly turned in our equipment and started to accept the fact that we would soon put LA behind us for an indefinite period of time. We had been planning to get ice cream all day, and after remembering that there was such an establishment near Manhattan beach we went right for it.
This was more than just an ice cream shop, we realized. It WAS Candy Mountain. There were tons of home-made candies and goodies, ranging from chocolate strawberries to cheesecake to EDIBLE LINGERIE (How's that working out for you by the way, Joel?). There were ice cream sandwiches made from homemade cookies and ice cream and chocolate dipped pretzels. I asked about the chocolate covered insects but the cashier said they tasted like mustard so I kept my distance. I didn't take any pictures because I was so distracted by what I was about to eat that I forgot to. They don't make candy shops like this anymore.
We took off on a sugar high and headed out of the city for Vegas where we would stay the night again. I led the way and we got separated. I ended up being a good twenty minutes ahead of them when I started seeing signs for Norwalk. I was like... "Why does that seem so familiar?" And then I was like OH YEAH OUR STRIPPER FRIEND. I lold and thought it'd be funny if our route out of the city took us by there again and what do you know? It took us right past there. What. Are. The. Odds. Seriously. This whole trip has been a series of extremely well placed coincidences. A Quantum Physicist would say that I have achieved Quantum Immortality. Course, a Quantum Physicist would also say that the cat is both dead and alive at the same time so go figure that one out.
I just couldn't pass this up. I had to get a saucy picture with our stripper friend and text it to Kyle. I resolved that I would park, get out, and get in immediately or I wouldn't do it. So I bucked up went in before I could think twice about it.
You have to realize that until the day before I had not even ever seen a real life pair of boobs so I was way in over my head here. I was braced for the worst as I went in, and to be honest I was a bit disappointed with all the hype about strip clubs. First of all, there were no naked people. I was like, "wut?" I had been expecting to be bombarded with depravity and debauchery of unprecedented magnitude, but nope. I didn't even have to cover my eyes like Terell and I did in the tenth grade during the Matrix II sex scene in theaters (by the way that whole scene was like WTF?). All the girls (and by "all" I mean like all four of the females I saw in the establishment) were wearing MORE clothes than what I had seen on the girls at the beach all day. There were maybe five guys total in there watching the NBA playoffs, and one girl (with clothes on) standing next to the TV, seemingly watching it as well. I had texted our friend and she said she would be right out so I waited there trying not to look ridiculously awkward but failed miserably at that. I was the only guy not looking at stage, for suddenly there was a commercial on the TV and then something resembling the hype of strip clubs going on next to it. I thought, "oh that's clever" when our friend tapped me on the shoulder and led me into the back before more and more clever things started happening.
Our friend and I laughed as I explained what I was after, and she was more than happy to oblige. We posed for a saucy picture, which coming from me means that raunchier things have been seen on Nickelodeon. One flash (of the camera) and motorboat later, I shot out the door and into the MINI and sent the picture text to Blue Falcon feeling extremely pleased with myself. ...Wait, that didn't sound right. Feeling very satisfied? ...That doesn't sound right either... I felt like the mission had been accomplished with minimal collateral damage? Closer, warmer, better.
Kyle laughed his head off as we talked over the radio and drove our way out of LA.
Out of glorious LA.