Sunday night. 10:14 pm. The fan is whirring and Ray is clanking pans in the kitchen as he washes dishes. We have just returned from a walk with our dogs, Cordelia and Sammie, through West Hollywood and its party district, where there were many folks out in the bars and restaurants on this Sunday evening. WeHo, as its known to its residents, is the gay area of LA, not that there are not many gay people living all over LA, but West Hollywood holds the distinction for having several blocks of gay bars with names like Rage, Trunks, Mother Lode and The Abbey, all residing in the zip code of 90069. Tonight people – men and women – were out in tables and chairs on patios right next to the sidewalk on Santa Monica Boulevard at these various establishments, laughing, talking, drinking, and listening to the music that was blaring from speakers inside.
Ray and I are used to walking here. These bars and this particular section of West Hollywood are literally four blocks from our house. It makes for interesting people-watching to go over there for an evening stroll, particularly with the dogs, who always get plenty of attention. Today two men stopped and petted Cordie and Sammie while we waited for the light to change at Santa Monica and San Vicente; another group of young men passed us as we headed back on Robertson and a voice rang out, “I love your dogs.” Also, we encountered a few fellow dogs walkers, who range from high strung – crossing the street the minute they see us coming – to relaxed – coming up to us and asking our dogs’ names. Either way, so far I don’t think I’ve seen cuter dogs than Cordie or Sammie on “The Blvd.”
Now it’s time for bed. Tomorrow the temperature is supposed to be up to 104. Ugh. The dogs are tired, and so are we. I can only hope that the forecast is harsher than the actual temperature. After all, tomorrow is October 1st. Aren’t we supposed to be well into fall?
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