Please, Baby, No More Parties in LA.

LA was actually the very first trip I booked for Around The World Tour 2. I was that excited about it. I've been here twice before on work trips and it's always been a whirlwind tornado of fun packed into big, crazy work events -- such as E3 2014 and that crazy press conference for UFC178 -- and usually just one night of personal time. And one night of personal time is probably the key here. Within the first 24 hours of being in LA, I was already asking myself some deep questions... just what the hell am I doing drinking in LA?

I guess it all started with my Uber driver from LAX. When you get a driver in a city like San Francisco, you're getting a new model Prius or Camry. It is in pristine condition and probably has that new car smell. The GPS will be expertly installed and positioned to provide the driver with a safe way of accessing it. The driver is likely a recovering taxi employee or might just be moonlighting. They will shy away from initiating conversation, but are happy to oblige chatty passengers. It's all very... professional. Not so in LA. In LA, you get picked up an early 2000s Civic by a dude wearing a wife beater and clogs. When you go to put your shit in the trunk, he'll probably say something like, "oh, don't worry about my stuff, just ignore it", while you try and tetris your 70L backpack between empty water bottles, a phone book from 2008, and the other forgotten crap people usually keep in their trunks when they don't want to deal with it in the moment. This is just some guy and his shitty Honda.

I'm not complaining, honest. Despite his illogical views on distracted driving (and his distracted driving), the guy was nice enough and got me where I needed to be. My point is that LA is just a lot more grimy than I realized. I mean, I've always known that I have this warped sense of what life here could be like. Staying at the Westin and spending company money can do that to you. But the reality check hit me full force shortly after I landed on Monday.

and a decent airbnb

Again, it all started with my Uber driver, "are you sure this is it?". Oh, ffs, those are not words you ever want to here while getting dropped off in LA. Basically, this area of Echo Park that my airbnb was in was only in Echo Park by technicality. Kind of like how you can make one wrong turn in Gastown and end up in non-gentrified parts of East Hastings. I was to be staying in the guesthouse of an old Victorian that I am sure was considered beautiful at some point in history, but negligence and a complete bankruptcy of fucks to give by the tenants/owners have turned it into an East Van crackshack.

I know what you're thinking, "Jazz, you can kind of be a diva sometimes", and I am the first to admit it, it's true. But I feel like it's usually by choice rather than a natural, default setting. I won't pretend like I grew up in the ghetto (I didn't) or that I'm hard as-fuck (I'm not), but it's also not like I've never slept in some questionable places I'd prefer my mother not know about (hi, Mom!). Maybe it was the familiarity of my surroundings in those situations or having friends present in the same boat as me, but I've always felt safe or that I could handle myself. This felt different. This felt like a bad choice I wasn't comfortable with. So I left.

I'll skip over the ensuing drama with my airbnb host, but I cancelled the reservation, got most of my money back and I've filed a refund request for the remainder, so we'll see what happens. In the wake of that drama, though, I met up with Sam for some food and drinks. After a few hours of day drinking, we ended back at her place with some of her friends for some pre-drinks before we headed out to I-don't-even-know. Or, wait... is that post-drinks drinks? I don't know, but there was whiskey involved, which is deeeeeeeeefinitely where a night usually takes a left turn. At some point we ended up at a trendy spot with a pool table where I was apparently more interested in providing color commentary on the billiards than I was interacting with Sam's friends (Anissa, I'm the worst, I'm sorry!). What can I say? I'm really into geometry.

still some good decisions being made here

I spent Tuesday morning and the better part of the afternoon hunting for a new airbnb after being at an afterhours until 5 in the morning, so that should give you some idea of how I was feeling. Despite being partially homeless and having far too much fun for my own good -- on a MONDAY, no less -- I'm staying positive and laughing at myself. That's all you can do in a situation like this, just roll with it and keep going because what alternative is there? Still, though: please, baby, no more parties in LA.