As I've delved deeper and deeper into the NPR Storytelling lineups, I've come to appreciate people's stories a bit more, and the ones that I've come across.
However, me, I'm not getting the full story usually, I'm just around when I happen to hear them.
From a man at a Thai restaurant in a gas station in Panorama City:
"It was worth it, you guys should try it," said the middle aged mustachioed white man whom I suspected to be Latino.
My mom recommended that my fiance and I order Thai food for the family. It was on a flyer. They had a menu. I ordered via phone and went to pick it up.
I had already been frustrated because: 1) it was hard to understand the lady taking my order over the phone 2) they didn't have what I ordered 3) their delivery person wasn't there at the moment.
After about 10 minutes of driving up and down Roscoe Blvd and finally locating this restaurant at the Arco, I took a deep sigh of relief and walked into the restaurant.
I looked in there. Reminded me of house cooking. The woman who was there seemed to be all alone. Smelled good though, and at the very least I could be assured of its freshness.
The man, middle-aged, middle-sized was sitting down and rubbing his belly.
"Ahhh" he breathed in his own sigh of relief.
"It was worth it, you guys should try it," said the middle aged mustachioed white man whom I suspected to be Latino.
He recommended the curry. He said, "she is working so hard that I feel like I need to be behind the counter"
He looked at my fiance and asked if we were married.
"Almost" I responded.
"Well, congratulations!"
He told us that he was going to be a grandpa, for the 2nd time. He was getting a quick dinner before seeing the new child and his son.
He told us that stopping by restaurants like these for a quick solo dinner would be something we'd do when we were his age.
Random outsiders thinking of Mesa Angeles while in Mesa Angeles:
- "When I got the call to work in this area, I thought, "this is the worst idea"
- "If you have a nice phone, don't show it out here"
From a young man at the Smoke Shop on Crenshaw and Slauson: I was carrying my bike and backpack through a long day of work.
I was waiting for someone in a visible area just outside of the chain-linked fenced in parking lot of a smoke shop that shared its lot with a dry cleaner business. The parking lot's capacity was about 10 cars at the most. There was quite the line entering in or exiting.
Not only was the area visible, but it was also highly trafficked. Cars were in and out, as were the people, likely not for the cleaners.
About 10 minutes into my wait, a young man from behind the chain linked fence saw me, and asked, "hey do you have a quarter on you?" No, I responded. "Really?" He looked at me, probably in suspicion.
"Really you don't have a quarter," he asked as he went around the fence in a way that seemed like he wanted to take my bike and bag.
"Naw dude sorry"
"Really, you don't?" he looked at me directly in the eye, now in my face as I clutched onto my bike.
"Naw dude, man" I thought of some change I probably did have, but didn't really feel like giving, particularly at a smoke shop.
"My homies are right there."
"What?"
"My homies are right there in the corner."
"Wow, you have pennies", I stared at the stacks of pennies in his hands.
"What?" He looked at me face to face like he was trying to stare me down. We were about the same height.
Realizing that he was threatening me, I just pretended to brush everything off "Ahh it's cool, man, sorry dude."
Then he turned away figuring that I wasn't going to budge.
To assure him everything was cool, I just grabbed him by the shoulder like you would a relative.
He said something to the effect of "I might've had a gun on me." He saw his taller homey down the corner, and said, "hey this is my homey." He pointed at me and say "This guy tried to rob me."
I looked at the taller homey and kept a haha type smile, as if to communicate, you should know your boy, he probably has tried to pull this dozens of times.
From an elder woman at a library near Mesa Angeles: An elder black lady sat down at a desk in the library talking with a library employee. I didn't know what the employee exactly did nor what clout they would have.
The elder woman was talking about properties she'd owned.
While someone was making money off of her, she was getting nothing.
Someone had swindled her.
However, at this point, she didn't care about the money. She just wanted help, and for some justice to be served.
From a resident of Mesa Angeles: Seeing that I was on my bicycle, she asked me if I knew of any bike clubs that were tearing up her streets. I told her I knew nothing of it.
From a man on the street in Mesa Angeles: For one job, I walked around the neighborhood of Mesa Angeles, which is just south of Leimert Park, but north of Inglewood. The streets are the 50s-60s, and the numbered avenues. Nearby is Crenshaw High School.
I met a stumpy older black man who was hunched over. The briefest of glances would lead you to believe that he was simply a homeless man asking for change. Heh, maybe he is. But in the brief conversation I had with him, he'd worked for Frito-Lay and some paint companies. That is until his body gave out on him.
For 14-years, he has been on SSI.
Made me wonder about how this particular society, by design, de-values you if you're old and not able-bodied anymore.
From a boy and his mom in Mesa Angeles: As I walking the neighborhood on a Friday afternoon, passing one house that had a fence. Behind it a dog's barking.
A black mother/aunt/family friend was walking a little black boy and girl, about kindergarten aged. She noted that this particular residence had just acquired a new dog and put it behind a tall white fence.
I passed by them and heard the restom of what they were saying as I was walking forward.
They were about to pass the house when I saw them.
The dog barked into a kind of howl: argh argh argh argh.
The boy apparently now past the house squeaked proudly: YEAH, UGLY DOG! Passing through the big dog was an accomplishment.
From a Friday Night Bike Ride Home down from 60th St/11th Avenue through Van Ness Ave, through Florence to the 150s/Central in Compton, this is what I saw:
- A restaurant on Florence near Central avenue featuring live mariachi
- A black motorcycle club meeting at a bar on the 80s and Central.
- A handful of wide and awake taco trucks
- Friday Night Church Services and sermons, probably en espanol
- One sleazy looking night club along Florence
- Trucks accumulating junk or junk-accumulating trucks
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