It was this time last year I was headed to LA for the first time. My mentor and I were walking the Hollywood walk of Fame and seeing the gift shops. I had never been to LA, and therefore as a New Yorker kept comparing it to New York.
It's a force of habit. Everything gets compared to New York. Even your damn grandmother gets compared to New York. Yes, New York is more uban and gritty. LA is more urban sprawl with it's seedy areas being very seedy. The people in New York are fuck off to your face. The people in LA are fuck off behind your back. You know, East Coast, West Coast throw those gang signs bae.
When we got to Farmer's Market he finally put his foot down. While he's very mild mannered, this comparing New York to LA was getting on his nerves. He finally said, "Stop comparing the two. Let New York be New York and let LA be LA."
Just then his phone rang. He got a notice that one of the alphabet agencies wanted to meet with us. It meant nothing, but it was still exciting. But what was I going to wear. My romper was cute, but it was too informal and made me look like they dragged me off the street to the meeting. The dress I wore the night before to The Magic Castle was glamorous, but it would have been too dressy for this meeting.
Immediately, my mentor took me to a gift shop hoping to find a nice, middle of the line sun dress. We didn't find that but we found an oversized t-shirt. Either the person this t-shirt was designed for was very large or I am very tiny, because this fit me perfectly as a dress.
Needless to say, we went to the meeting on Wilshire Boulevard. While they did not scoop me up right there the door is still open. Life is good. At least I got a cute outfit out of the whole deal.
It's a force of habit. Everything gets compared to New York. Even your damn grandmother gets compared to New York. Yes, New York is more uban and gritty. LA is more urban sprawl with it's seedy areas being very seedy. The people in New York are fuck off to your face. The people in LA are fuck off behind your back. You know, East Coast, West Coast throw those gang signs bae.
When we got to Farmer's Market he finally put his foot down. While he's very mild mannered, this comparing New York to LA was getting on his nerves. He finally said, "Stop comparing the two. Let New York be New York and let LA be LA."
Just then his phone rang. He got a notice that one of the alphabet agencies wanted to meet with us. It meant nothing, but it was still exciting. But what was I going to wear. My romper was cute, but it was too informal and made me look like they dragged me off the street to the meeting. The dress I wore the night before to The Magic Castle was glamorous, but it would have been too dressy for this meeting.
Immediately, my mentor took me to a gift shop hoping to find a nice, middle of the line sun dress. We didn't find that but we found an oversized t-shirt. Either the person this t-shirt was designed for was very large or I am very tiny, because this fit me perfectly as a dress.
Needless to say, we went to the meeting on Wilshire Boulevard. While they did not scoop me up right there the door is still open. Life is good. At least I got a cute outfit out of the whole deal.
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