Monday, September 25, 2006

Octopus Orders Medium Pie to Go

With Mrs. Octopus out of town until Saturday, I must battle every day to meet my basic needs and survive. My struggle finds me tonight at Pizza Buona in Echo Park, waiting outside while my pizza cooks (onions, olives, and green peppers). Pizza Buona is located at the corner of Alvarado and Sunset, smack dab in the middle of gritty-chic Echo Park. Just outside the restaurant, where I'm now standing, is a bus stop (2, 4, 302, and 304). Sadly, I drove here: the 81 does not come down this way.

There was a classic Echo Park guy standing out here on the sidewalk, also waiting for a pizza. He was a fresh-faced white kid in a zip-up hooded sweatshirt, skinny jeans, and white canvas sneakers, telling a friend excitedly on his cell phone that he was "gonna be playing tomorrow night" at some place I didn't catch. He looked like he was from Michigan or New Hampshire. He had sort of medium-length mussed hair, wore a collared shirt, and had that studious, hungry look -- an uneasy blend of soulfulness and ambition -- that is so prevalent among aspiring indie rockers (and their ilk) in the L.A. Hipster Eastern Empire. I was the Bengali guy in a business casual shirt (sloppily untucked after a long day of playing grown-up) and slacks with comfortable, scuffed brown leather Rockport shoes -- the kind your middle school Social Studies teacher might have worn -- his expression of absorption and self-satisfied amusement illuminated in the wan blue glow of his Blackberry as he typed out a blog entry about Los Angeles.

American Apparel stores tend to appear in the areas where you find the aspiring indie rocker, but the aspiring indie rocker most probably does not shop there. There's one across the street from Pizza Buona. It is sort of a mystery as to who, in an economically "mixed" neighborhood like Echo Park, actually does shop at the store for $12 briefs. I don't think I've ever seen anyone inside the American Apparel here. The store's vaguely illicit ads, which famously feature very young women who appear to have been abducted by a pedophilic sex offender with a disposable camera and depressing interior design tastes, are always somewhat distracting when you drive by. They make you feel a little dirty. It's a way to sell underwear, I guess.


I'm back in Eagle Rock now, after driving the pizza home in a car redolent of tomatoes, cheese, and onions. I'm standing on the front steps listening to all the dogs and cats in the neighborhood freaking out, barking and meowing. Obviously, the effect is ominous: I'm considering safe places to hide in the event of an earthquake.


Toddy said...

This blog has officially taken over top spot in the battle of "The Widge's Friend's Blogs To Read Every Day."
Sorry J-Fi.

Nice going M. Pieuvre.

Octopus Grigori said...


I heartily recommend J-Fi's to all O.G. readers. Way better than my farce of a blog.

Octopus Grigori said...

That link ended up all screwy, but you know what I mean.

Toddy said...

J-fi's blog is really terrible.
It has really gone down hill since the whole bug-tapping fiasco.
Seriously DO NOT READ J-FI's blog!

I read it only to set the bar low in the morning so the rest of my day feels great.

Justin said...

Thanks, Octopus. No need to start an East Coast/West Coast rivalry here. I'd hate for someone to get shot.