A Stroll Through Inglewood

     I’m not sure who was selling crack to who, but if I had to guess, I’d say the lady sitting shotgun in the Range Rover was buying. How a dishelved, homeless looking crackhead came to be sitting in an unoccupied $80,000 SUV is beyond me, but I don’t spend too much time thinking about it, seeing as how I’m currently scared shitless. You see, my relience on technology is way too high. So high, in fact, that when my phone’s GPS tells me my hotel is 4 miles East of the 405, I follow it without thinking.
     After about 45 minutes of crossing under, I realize that my hotel probably isn’t in the ghetto. I take another look at my phone and realize that I actually walked 4 miles in the wrong direction. Fuck. I’m wearing a 60lb backpack and have $900 dollars in my pocket, every one who I see is staring at me like “What the fuck is this little white boy doing right now?”. Not helping the situation is my pride; fuck taking a taxi, I’m way too proud for that. Besides I haven’t even seen one since I got into Inglewood.
     I finally get to my hotel, take off my way too small of a pack and relax. I had high hopes of checking out the beach tonight, but I think I’ll just stay in and watch TV.

One thought on “A Stroll Through Inglewood

  1. Amy

    What a drag! At least you had a glimpse into another way of life. What was so tough about working in Title 1 schools (high poverty/minority) was the kids’ belief of what they could have in life. Hopelessness rules.

    To “my reliance on technology is way too high” may I just add that your reliance on mom is way too low. I told you it was only a mile away–an easy 20 minute stroll! I suspect the beach that’s in walking distance of the hotel wouldn’t have been too nice either.


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