The Other Side

West of the 405.

I've crossed over. I went from HERE (image above) and what I see everyday, to HERE (image below).

East of the 405.

Isabel and I walked under the Santa Monica overpass, to avoid the trolls who live under the Ohio one. We walked maybe a block and a half east to Massachusetts and Pontius. Everything is different. There are well cared for homes, dogs and people. They chat with us.

They don't know I'm not one of them. I've lost enough weight that I'm not thin, but I look like I'm still competing. That's a sign of life in LA. And Isabel, were she not second hand like my wardrobe, would be an expensive dog. I've put on deodorant and no one else can feel the layer of grime I do under my clothes. I need a shower but haven't had reason so far to take one this week.

I chat with a woman, her toddler, Latina housekeeper/nanny (servant) and Maltese. The Maltese is why I said hi in the first place (I love you Spike in Heaven). The housekeeper is pushing the toddler in a ride-along stroller. The mother is walking the Maltese. I ask the mother where the park is. "It's right there", she says pointing down the street. I've almost arrived. We are both crouched on the lawn adjacent sidewalk, petting the dogs and toddler while the housekeeper stands at alert. I ask her how the park is about dogs, yuppy code for will the police nail you if you let your dog offleash. I don't actually trust Isabel off leash; I just want to speak yuppy code. She says, "It should be ok this time of day".

We say our goodbyes and go down the grass lined street to the park, the nice entrance. Nicer than the one nearer me, that I discover on the way out. We're in another world. There are children playing, mothers nursing, college students spread out on a blanket playing Cards against Humanity. The trash needs to be emptied but there is very little of it on the ground. Even the one homeless cart is ensconced in lushness.

Isabel is in shock. She samples the grass. There are only stray weeds on our side of the freeway; she's never even tried tasting them. We look across the street from us. It's equally impressive. Note the red awning. Why are red entrance ways more expensive?

Probable upscale housing.

I know now I've been lied to. Everyone's told me I'm on the good side of the 405, but I'm not. A block and a half east of it is paradise.