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Perhaps 20 minutes after they set their bags down, Meghan, Jacob, and I were on Sunset Boulevard as I gave them the neighborhood tour. A man walked up to us and told us he was Jimi Hendrix, and could we give him a quarter or a dollar? He called Jacob "John...John Lennon." I noticed that the man was wearing a woman's short-sleeved sweater in heathered purple, with a cable-knit bib under a boatneck.
"Purple haze, purple haze," he said as he walked away with the two dollars we'd given him (because whatever, we had a couple bills handy). We watched as he went a few feet farther down the street and addressed a statue of a Marine outside the Army Supply store. He tucked the bills we'd just given him into the statue's belt (as if the statue had just performed some kind of erotic bar-top dance, which would really have been something) and walked away around the corner.
Welcome to Los Angeles, cousins!! Celebrity sightings are all part of the experience.
Posted at 05:49 PM in California, Encounters, Los Angeles | Permalink | Comments (0)
Ring ring...
ROBOT
Thank you for calling the Apple Store Glendale Galleria!...
I'm an automated system that can handle complete sentences. How may I help you today?
ME
Hi! I'm following up on a Genius Bar repair!
ROBOT
Great. I'll transfer your call to AppleCare Technical Support!
ME
No, not AppleCare...crap.
ME hangs up. Redials.
ROBOT
Thank you for calling the Apple Store Glendale Galleria!...I'm an automated system that can handle complete sentences. How may I help you today?
ME
I'd like to speak to someone at the Genius Bar.
ROBOT
Great. I'll transfer your call to AppleCare Technical support
ME sighs heavily, having failed to outsmart the robots protecting the humans of the Glendale Galleria Genius Bar from the wrath of her phone inquiry.
APPLECARE ROBOT
Hi! Thank you for calling AppleCare technical support! Before we get started, tell me what product you're calling about.
ME
I'm not calling about a product. I just need to check in on my Genius Bar repair.
APPLECARE ROBOT
Okay, "Messages." Is that right?
ME
No. NO!
APPLECARE ROBOT
...okay, "Notes." Is that right?
Me thinks to herself "WHY THE HELL WOULD ANYONE BE CALLING APPLECARE TO TALK ABOUT THE 'NOTES' APP?? What is there to support? You open it, you type!" But once again she realizes she is being forced by the robots to play along.
ME
NO.
APPLECARE ROBOT
ok. what product are you calling about?
ME
MacBook.
APPLECARE ROBOT
okay. I see here that you purchased a MacBook in June of 2007. Is that the MacBook you're calling about?
ME (in a spirit of WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK)
NO!
APPLECARE ROBOT
Ok. Say "MacBook Pro," "MacBook Air," or –
ME
MACBOOK AIR
APPLECARE ROBOT
Ok. Before we can continue, you'll need your serial number.
ME
I don't have my serial number.
APPLECARE ROBOT (willfully ignoring her)
You can find you serial number by going to the apple menu in the upper left hand corner, then clicking "about this Mac," or...
Me desperately wants to tell AppleCare Robot "MY COMPUTER IS AT THE goddamn GENIUS BAR , at the store I called! That is why the fuck I am calling you right now!" But instead...
ME
I don't have it.
APPLECARE ROBOT
If you need more time to find your serial number, just say, "Hold on."
ME
I. DONT. HAVE IT.
APPLECARE ROBOT
Without your serial number, the AppleCare technician won't be able to identify your machine. There may be a charge for technical service given over the phone. Should I wait while you find it, or continue?
ME
CONTINUE!
APPLECARE ROBOT
Ok. I'll connect you to a technical advisor now.
Ring ring...
DAVID
Thank you for calling AppleCare. This is David. May I have your name?
ME
MYNAMEISMARISSAFLAXBARTBUTIDON'
DAVID
...
Me wonders if David has hung up because he doesn't get paid enough to clean up these damn dirty robots' messes.
DAVID (with no apparent intended irony)
Ok, well thank you for your patience. I can try and get in touch with the Genius Bar at...did you say the Glendale Galleria?
ME
YES. Thank you David. I know it's not your fault, but there was no way for me to say the words "GeniusBar" to the first robot without getting sent through to AppleCare! I just want a status update on my laptop!
DAVID
No problem. Can I have your repair number?
Me thinks about her work authorization form, at home in her bedroom. Today, she realizes, the robots won. But there will be another phone call. And when the time for that call comes, she'll be ready.
EPILOGUE:
Me will spend what feels like ten minutes, but is probably only five minutes, on hold. David will check in twice. She will remember after the first hold period that she has an email containing the repair number. Ultimately, she will be told of her computer "they're still working on it, they'll call you when it's ready." She will never speak directly to anyone at the Genius Bar.
Posted at 10:24 AM in Comedy, Scenes, Web/Tech | Permalink | Comments (0)
I'm sitting in Echo Park (the neighborhood, yes, but specifically the park proper), drinking an overpriced but delicious coffee drink. Two shots of the darkly fruity, locally roasted type of espresso that is so easily found in this town, along with some maple syrup that might be organic but can't possibly be "local" because when was the last time I saw a maple tree in Southern California? It's iced, which means I'm drinking it too fast; the sun is hot and the drink is too refreshing to savor.
This park is, in my opinion, one of LA's most resplendent gems. Its celebrity is of the same genus as so many of the town's celebrities: you may not have heard of it but you might recognize it from one of its television appearances. It was featured but uncredited in the recently aired pilot of John Stamos vehicle Grandfathered, for example. I've been here many times before – I've speedwalked the circuit around Echo Park Lake with my walk-obsessed father, had a lakeside picnic with my cousin, and trudged morosely over the park's bridge with a friend who was about to move away, attempting to allow the place's natural beauty to dull the pain of our parting. On all of those occasions, the park was crowded with people – children and vendors, fishermen and paddle boaters, dog walkers and joggers – but this morning is relatively quiet. Even the ducks seem to have slept in.
Admittedly, I was not planning to be at the park today either. I'm here waiting for my car, all four tires of which are currently being replaced about a quarter mile down Sunset from here. When I handed over my keys, it was the tire man who suggested I wait out my service time in Echo Park. "A lot of people like to walk to the park," he told me as I wrote down my phone number. This unsolicited but welcome suggestion is the kind of thing I have come to really appreciate about Los Angeles life. There are a number of regional pet complaints that get thrown around by locals and visitors alike, but those of use who have chosen to reside here and therefore live with these pitfalls of angeleno-dom tend to be eager to share our tips for so doing with our fellow citizens. Advice on what surface street to take to Beverly Hills, what LAX terminal is best for meeting your ride, or what time of day the lines at that new ice cream shop are shortest are as much a part of a typical day in LA as traffic on the 101. There is a weird kind of neighborliness to this causal counseling, a spirit of "we're all in this together" that you'll miss if you're not paying attention.
Behind me, I hear a low wolfwhistle and don't turn around. The whistler could be hooting at anyone, and I'm just minding my own business, staring out at the water, my rapidly depleting coffee drink in hand. The couple next to me ignore him too, until they notice he's actually attempting to signal everyone in the general vicinity. The man, an aging fellow in a maroon bowling shirt, is walking his dog. "Is that your car?" he says to the couple, loud enough that he's asking everyone around as well. "You're about to get a ticket." The couple say no, it's not their car, and I shake my head too. But I also think to myself, isn't that nice. Strangers looking out for strangers. And I hope the car's owner is near enough, and paying enough attention, to appreciate it.
Posted at 10:58 AM in California, City, Moments, Writing | Permalink | Comments (0)
Posted at 05:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)