This morning I was gently rocked from slumber by the sound of two homeless men having an argument outside my window.
Guy #1: Bring it on!
Guy #2: (clearly punches guy number 1)
Guy #1: Ouch! That fucking hurt!
Um...what did you think would happen when you screamed 'bring it on'? You'd get a massage or perhaps a pony?
Then they started throwing beer bottles at each other. AT 6AM. UNDER MY WINDOW. When I was able to pull my cats off the ceiling I stopped to think about my neighborhood. I moved here because it's notoriously safe and chock full of the gays. And I love the gays. I assumed the worst trouble I would get into would be getting stopped by the fashion police and told that my bag so does not go with my shoes. I do, however, not like homeless fist fights especially an hour and a half before my alarm is due to go off. So now I am tired and freaked out. It's super. I think I'm going to have to move to the suburbs where nothing, ever, ever happens.
Apparently West Hollywood is the new Compton.