Only in Los Angeles

sunset, originally uploaded by jasonmlott.

Went to LA last weekend.

After the Laker game, I am seated in the Hotel bar enjoying a nightcap and talking to the interesting cast of characters assembled.

To my left is a woman who never learned "rock-scissors-paper" because she believed it to be gambling, and therefore immoral. I taught her the rules and swept her in a best of seven series, winning a drink.

To my right are a professional of the oldest profession and her handler. Two VERY drunk men enter the bar, have a short discussion with the pimp, and take their places on either side of the woman. In a disturbing/disgusting twist, the Johns rotate between talking to her and me. I feel dirty simply being in their presence.

The symbolism involved in having an over-the-top bible banger on one shoulder and the hooker-loving drunks on the other is not lost on me. I am very careful not to mix up the individual conversations to either side, which I somehow manage to carry on simultaneously.

Tired from the fight for my soul between good and evil, I quickly leave. In front of me waiting for the elevator is a young woman with batons of some kind in her hand. Curious...and obviously not having learned any lessons that evening...I ask about what the heck they were.

They were flags, reported the girl, which she used to wave at God our Lord Savior. Asked whether she thought God liked it, she assured me that she was a shoe-in at the pearly gates. I wish her good luck, tell her there is a bar seat open downstairs, and go to bed.

Apparently angels haven't fully given up on Los Angeles, they're around... just a lot friggin' stranger than the stories would have us believe.