Los Angeles, CA

1 a.m: Los Angeles, CA…

It’s a surprisingly chilly and overcast fall night in LA. 

My eyes suddenly pop open from a much needed sleep coma that I’d been partaking in for a little over an hour.

I shake off my groggy-confusion, reach my weary right arm toward the ceiling and slide open the moon roof of my 2005 Nissan Altima.

“Shit. It’s not a dream.” I say aloud to myself.

LA Weather 350-ish days a year.

I look in the passenger’s seat and see my trusty-old MacBook Pro and a half full bottle of Dasani.

“Mmmm My favorite flavor of water… ‘Warm-Car!'”  I sarcastically say as I take a monstrous gulp.

I’ve been living in my car for 15 days. You would think I would stop waking up in the middle of the night in complete confusion as to where I am… but the mind wants what the mind wants… and my mind wants to be foolish.  

My phone suddenly rings and gyrates in the seat next to me like an exotic dancer with Christmas bells draped around her neck. It inexplicably startles me. Maybe I’m on edge. Maybe I need sleep. Maybe I need more of this delicious “warm-car-water.”

I look down at my addiction of choice and consider my options as the phone taunts me with each ring.  One ring — Two rings — Three rings – Suddenly I send the call to voicemail.

“I don’t want to talk to Her.” I say with grumpy intentions.

Living in your car is not as bad as you might think it would be… on opposite day — At least I live in Southern California and as the song says…

🎶 “It Never Rains In Southern California.” 🎶

I love that song.

To know me is to know that I can fall asleep anytime… anywhere. One time I feel asleep standing up at football practice (story for another day). So after two or three long blinks… I am asleep once again.

One hour later I wake up to the delightfully-shitty sound of raindrops falling on my moon roof.

“Shit! It’s not a dream.” I mutter under my breath.

I don’t usually hold such animosity toward nature peeing on my Nissan but it just so happens that earlier in the week someone shattered the quarter glass window in the back passenger seat of my car (also known as “The Noa Mobile”). What they stole I miss dearly to this day.

“I should go to Target and get a plastic bag for that window,” was the last thing I thought before sleep became the answer to all of life’s problems and drool became the wetness on my shoulder.

In the recesses of my mind I hear the pitter patter of rain drops as they dance on the back seat and Raphael Saadiq sings…

🎶 “It Never Rains In Southern California.” 🎶

I really love that song.

An hour later the vindictive ring of my perpetually petty cell phone awakens me to a now heavy downpour of rain that pelts the glass of my moon roof.

“Shit! It’s not a dream!”  I aggressively exclaim as I shoot an evil look toward my cell.

I take a deep breath, grab my phone and…

Once again send the same persistent caller to voicemail.

With all my heart I want to answer that call but…

… The person on the other end of that phone is the woman I’ve been in love with for the last five years of my life. She’s concerned… but she also broke up with me eight hours prior to this moment… so…

Off to Voicemailand she goes! Don’t worry about her. She won’t be alone in there… the bill collectors will keep her company.

Love is a funny thing. Sometimes it’s not enough. Sometimes it too much…

… and sometimes…

It rains in Southern California.

Good night.

Oh! The person who broke into my car stole two items. A stapler and some head shots. I’m flattered but I really miss that stapler.

Maybe I’ll take the flight out tonight 
And you can pick me up about 8 
I don’t know what airline girl 
But I know it won’t be late ’cause they tell me
It never rains in southern California 
It never rains in southern California — Tony, Toni, Tone