
DeLongpre Park | Photo credit to mercycube on Flickr
There were many things about the place I moved from one month ago that had seen my tenancy surpass seven years, but the one that comes to mind other than affordability is that I was geographically in the center of Los Angeles. I never had to choose – I could drive as easily to Venice as to Silver Lake and come back again. But there came a point where I longed for my own home – even one that came with a neighborhood where I could walk and defy Missing Persons. A community. I was ready to commit to the community of my choosing.
A girl I met last week, subsequent to obligatory introductions, asked, “Into Hollywood?”
It didn’t bother me.
From Farmer’s Market on Sundays to the movie theatre, the largest independent music store and Trader Joe’s – I can walk anywhere, and I started to, immediately. What a nice park I have down the street. And as I walked in my new neighborhood coming to that park I saw the woman, darker-skinned and with waist-length dark brown and blonde dreads. 5’6″, 135 lbs (medium build). Orange tank top, jeans and jean shirt. I would sooner tell you I had no clue what her ethnicity is or countless haven’t surmised my own, eager to prove their ethnic guile and cunning. She crossed the street to turn her back to that fence and fiddle with her phone, as if that spot by that fence in front of me at the time was so much better than that other spot at which she just stood, I think, 15 feet away.
I had the headphones on – and of course this was a no-no after dusk but I was to learn, apparently also at 1:30 on a Sunday afternoon. Targets are what targets do, and thankfully I wasn’t lost in my playlist as I heard those ungraceful footsteps run up from behind me. Instinctively, my right arm - the purse arm - tensed and clutched to my side. She grabbed my purse which was in my armpit and tried to run past. Instead, with my purse still attached to my shoulder, she boomeranged around back to me, whereby she started to land punches on my head and body. (So the witness told me, later. Calling the fight a “flash” in my recollection would be accurate.)

































