WHAM-WHAM-WHAM! "WHY ARE YOU STALLING? OPEN THE DOOR! IF YOU DON'T THINK THIS IS THE POLICE I SUGGEST YOU CALL 9-1-1 BECAUSE WE'RE COMING IN!" We're both awake now, wide-eyed, staring in the pitch black towards our door.
We hear a click, a door swing open, and an incredible amount of screaming and profanity as the police corral the people in the room across the hall. The main cop, Officer Dillweed, continues in his monotonous screaming. "IS THAT CRACK COCAINE RIGHT THERE? IF THAT'S RIGHT ON THE TABLE, WHAT WERE YOU HIDING WHILE YOU WEREN'T OPENING THE DOOR FOR US? WHERE DO YOU CURRENTLY RESIDE, SIR. AND YOU MA'AM? THAT DOESN'T SOUND LIKE A RESIDENCE TO ME!"
All I can think about is if the crack-smoking John got a better rate on his room than we did.
Dillweed continues, "YOU THINK I'M ACTING CRAZY? YOU MEAN, YOU DON'T LIKE MY SCREAMING? WELL, LETS JUST SAY I DON'T LIKE HAVING MY WORK INTERFERED WITH! YOU REFUSING TO OPEN YOUR DOOR TO US IS INTERFERING WITH POLICE WORK! THEN, US HAVING TO BANG AND BANG AND SCREAM ON YOUR DOOR AT 3:00 A.M. AND WAKE ALL THESE NICE PEOPLE IN THIS HOTEL FUTHER ADDS TO MY ANXIETY!"
I'm not sure Officer Dillweed was sincere in his calling us "nice." I wonder if I should l play the roll of "concerned neighbor" and inform the John he should quit talking until he gets a lawyer. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me back up 6 hours.
South America is over! And I know, dear reader, we still owe you some information on Colombia, but good things come to those who wait.
Anyway we're heading to Vietnam and we planned a 27-hour layover in LAX to meet up with some friends from Bolivia. We booked the lovely Econo Lodge in Inglewood, CA for the night. We catch a taxi from the airport and as we're going down West Century BLVD our cabbie starts telling us how dangerous it is around here. Tara and I look at each other ironically. Every cabbie since Buenos Aires has been warning us about the dangers of walking around at night, etc. It's strange hearing it in English (albeit with a Serbian accent) and it gives the words an added air of truth. He's rattling off horror stories about crazed, violent pimps assaulting pedestrians when he's interrupted by his GPS, "Destination on left."
He looks in the rear view mirror. Gives us a guilty smile and pops the trunk.
Our hotel is very nice. $55. It's very secure. In fact, the owner's desk is in a bulletproof glass bubble. We're on the 3rd floor and our windows have bars on them. I'd never seen bars on windows on a 3rd floor before. We're very impressed. The steel door to our room looks like at had been worked over with a crow bar. But it held, people, it held.
On the way here we'd passed a Burger King. I can stick my head through our window-bars and see it about a half mile down the road. It's been 8 months and during that time the company has changed ownership. I feel partly responsible abandoning them at such a rough time in their existence and feel it my duty to now gorge myself. Only 27 hours in The States, gotta make 'em count.
Tara and I head out at about 10:30 PM. Fireworks are popping off and it's very festive. Oh, it's the 4th of July. U.S.A! We speedwalk down Century BLVD in a strange way. Whenever a street light is out on our side of the street, we cross to the other. Whenever a person approaches we cross again. This road has 7 busy lanes.
We zig-zag our way and make it! The Burger King is locked but the lights are on. A creeeeepy voice says, "You gotta use the drive thru." Who said that? An exploding firework illuminates a figure leaning against a post.
We scurry around back. Yes, now we are behind a Burger King in Inglewood, CA. It's dark back here. We're jumping up and down on the weight sensor so that Burger King's drive thru computer might recognize us as a car. It does not. Speaking into the microphone doesn't seem to work either.
We walk up the window and the man nervously looks out as us. "I can't serve anyone who is on foot in the drive through lane. It's dangerous. You could get hit by a car." I look around with a questioning air as if to imply, "Do we look like the kind of people who are concerned about danger?" I say our orders and he shakes his head walks off. We wait. Miraculously he comes back with food!
There seems to be more people on the way back to the Econo Lodge. After much zig-zagging we make it back and eat the Burger King. But the food has changed, it's different. Apparently the private equity firm that bought Burger King thought that more packaging and lower quality beef would boost sales. Tara comments on how sad it is to see a Whopper in a box, like it's trying to be a Big Mac. Your beauty was in your difference!
It's morning now. In the daylight, looking our our window, I know this to be the most dangerous city we've visited on our trip. However, we had complimentary Eggos and Fruit Loops for breakfast, so it's OK! U.S.A!
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