So I headed up the 110 freeway to switch-back over to the 5 and onto Dorknoodle's (DN's) temporary fiesta flat. I could tell it was summer already. The heat laminated my balls and briefs like a burrito. I had the windows cranked down and KROQ was doing a 90's set of Rage Against the Machine and Sponge. I started getting royally pissed at The Man and sped up. I was being fairly polite on the road, but a lone Mercedes honked me out after I pulled in front of it. I'd signalled, I'd waited; so I delicately thrust my hand out and flipped the bird with a waggle.

30 minutes and several wrong turns later I was in front of a tiny apartment complex, part spanish villa, part two story motel strip with a stucco plant motif going on. I walked into the back. To my left was a young looking purple-black haired guy stroking a jack russel terrier. I nodded and raised my hand. DN looked confused but chill simultaneously. He honestly didn't look like he was in his 30's and apparently I don't look anything like my pictures.

We talked for about 40 minutes and took turns petting his friend's entirely ass-kicking dog. The conversation was like eating an orange, labored and disorienting until I dove under the peel and started grubbing on the talking. DN told me about his battles with detox, his boyfriend and asked me about general life stuff. Eventually we stowed the terrier in the kitchen and made tracks to the truck. DN didn't care where we went, so I figured now was as good excuse as any to drive by the coast and go to Topanga Canyon. I'd been wanting to photograph those creek beds for a year.

Over the next several hours we got lost in downtown, sat in a rare bout of bumper to bumper traffic along Pacific Coast Highway then finally dodged into the mountainous alcove of photo opportunities. Our first victim was a road shoulder next to a gated plant porn farm. There was a streamlet running through it, but we found the converted RV atrium much more interesting. Eventually we peeled out of there and stopped closer to the coast. It was past dusk but the deep clouds overhead seemed to make the light stay around. DV took camcorder footage while I did some panorama shots and obsessed over a mountain shot. We must have fascinated the hell out of everyone passing by, since a group of people stopped by and hung out at the other end of the sandy road shoulder.

Even if DV "ate like a bird" usually, I really wanted to show him my favorite seafood place while we were out near Santa Monica. I did valet parking for the first time and felt incredibly weird leaving my car with some dude. The inside was the usual fare for friday: couples slipping words to each other, loud sporting events and reams of complimentary peanuts cast to the floor. DV went over for a drink, I stood and pretended not to get annoyed when various people kept sizing me up.

The dinner itself was golden, with me pitched on my arse as I leaned forward and passionately talked about shit I can't remember. DV was as into it as I was. I'd missed actually going out and doing this sort of thing with new people.

The trip back to his temporary pad was quick, but the conversation was lingering as the night passed around hours and sundry noises. We sat back down where we'd met, musing about our writing, what it was like for me to be a scientist and an artist and how we'd gotten to wherever the hell we were. I read several pages of his novel and instantly loved it. He has a Hunter S. Thompson quality combined with memorable scenes like busting into a mini-airplane john and stomping on some dude on the can, wisfully watching the bastard get sucked out into the stratosphere with a flush. Now and then we saw his friend's girlfriend, Allison, who seemed to want to join in but didn't know what my deal was.

It was 3AM when we finally stopped. He gave me a solid hug and we made plans to go out later. Even if I knew that wouldn't likely happen because of my work, I still felt really special that I'd gotten to know a guy like him. The freeways were empty like a church. I smiled and cranked up the radio. When I passed by my favorite refinery, though, I decided that I already had my camera and needed to finally photograph the beast. Nothing came out, but I was surprised I spontaneously got out of my car and dodged security for some nice shots.

I hadn't had such a great time in awhile. It makes me genuinely sad that I don't know more people--with one exception, any people--around here. Still, I had a good day with a good friend. You could say it was prophylactic for the week I was about to have...

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