The Beverly Wilshire Hotel in Beverly Hills, where they shot Pretty Woman some 20 years ago. Julia Roberts was 19 then.
We got here from walking through Rodeo Drive in the blistering sunshine. My friend brought me here as it was my last day in LA, and it was a tourist spot. Hell yeah it was a tourist spot. You couldn't go three steps without another person trying to get his picture taken in front of a store. (I got mine in front of Tiffany's, all the while humming Moonriver in my head.)
It was where the rich and the beautiful shopped and lunched, and they paid no heed to the swarm of tourists wielding cameras that made them mere backgrounds of what was to be their Facebook profile pictures. I've seen expensive cars being driven around, but then again I don't really care about cars. For the first time since I arrived I felt the first trickle of sweat run down my temples. The sun was really high up and I feel a sunburn coming. I was tired from days of 5-hour sleep and the endless roaming around, I was getting dizzy it wasn't fun anymore.
Days before that I always stayed in the sunshine, because the difference in temperature if you're in the shade is very noticeable. I didn't mind walking a lot because it staved off the chills, and when you're wearing short shorts at 8 in the evening it's not a good feeling when a breeze comes. I welcomed the heat.
I almost have no concern for expensive brands and their stores; honestly they were just stores to me, it's not like the mothership was calling. I just wanted to sit down and have a drink. We entered this snotty crepe place and I had some iced coffee to wake me up.
My friend asked me if I wanted to stay. I couldn't answer. For me it was a tourist spot, somewhere you go to when you want to see something new. I can't say if I would want to live there. I don't drive. You can't survive there if you don't drive. Buses come every 45 minutes, and the trains don't go everywhere. Counties are so far away from each other that taking me to San Fernando Valley would get him a two-hour drive back to his own place. Tagaytay is only an hour with no traffic. Their definition of traffic in rush hour is very different from our rush hour.
People would ask me what I thought of the United States of America. I have the same answer everytime: it's big.
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