There’s a direct correlation between my mom’s age and the number of paranoid emails she forwards my way. Apparently, evil robots are going to steal my social security number while poisoning my dog with floor cleanser as they elect an Arab guy to be our President.The majority of warnings deal with carjacking, a crime that I thought fell out of vogue in the 90s. That was until yesterday.
After a rehearsal for a film in Hollywood, I had three hours to kill before an acting class. I parked outside an elementary school (the long building in the center, above), and borrowed their wireless connection on my laptop. As the sun went down, and Las Palmas Ave. became deserted, I noticed in my rearview mirror a car parking far behind me. Two young men got out and approached my car. As they got close, one of them give a big wave to a third guy back at their car. They passed me, and I locked my doors, but left my windows down. They then circled back, leaned in my passenger window and asked if they could borrow my cell phone to call AAA for their "broke-down" car.
I told them my cell battery was dead, and they got agitated. It was fight or flight, and I flew– jammed the key in the ignition, threw it into drive and got my money’s worth out of my new transmission. One of the homeboys, angry as I pulled away, slapped his hand down on my roof and cursed me out. I slowed, and called him the C word twice before zipping away. He looked both pissed and perplexed.
Actors ask me why I commute up to Hollywood for auditions and workshops, rather than live in the center of it all. Right now I’d say it’s because I’ve grown rather fond of my cell phone, computer, car and life, and would like to hold on to them for as long as possible.
Oh, and a memo to the thugs: the Degenerate Actor Friends and I have been planning to hit a shooting range on the 28th, and if it had been this time next week I’d be carpooling with four guys and five handguns. Give us a reason.
