Last Friday, when I went to the blogging.la party at Tokio, I decided I would park at Hollywood and Highland and just take the Holley Trolley to Hollywood and Cahuenga. I was wearing new high heeled Coach pumps I’d just bought at Loehmann’s, and, hence, did not want to walk the four blocks.
So I came out of the H&H center, teetered across the street, and caught a parked Trolley. There was a very nice guy in his early 20s, wearing a snazzy black-on-black suit, inviting people onto the Trolley as they went by, which made me wonder – do the Trolleys follow a set schedule? Or do they simply leave at will and stop where requested or required?
I got on the Trolley, and the ambassador who had been standing outside continued to bring people on. One punk – and four gangsta-types. Suddenly, the sound system kicked in, with some seriously loud rap. And the Trolley started rolling, as the punk and I exchanged looks, and the gangsta-types began yelling at people out the windows. Meanwhile, the ambassador for the Trolley came over to sit by me and chat. Or rather, yell, because the music was at club volume. And after a couple minutes of shouted small talk, he then asked me for a date, which I politely evaded. But this was one determined Trolley ambassador, because when I asked for a transfer, he said I didn’t need one, that I should just look for him, so I could ride the Trolley for free all night. I smiled, and said I’d give him my number if I saw him later, and made a graceful exit at Cahuenga.
I still think the Trolley was a great investment, for a dollar, to save the ten minutes and four blocks, even if I did have to deflect some attention in the process, and come very close to one of my more typical, “this is why I shouldn’t wear high heels” moments when I almost fell down the steps while disembarking. Last Saturday, I circled Hollywood for half an hour trying even to find a lot with space so I could go see Stars at the Avalon. Now that I know the Trolleys run frequently, and are an all-you-can-ride-for-a-buck system, I’ll probably keep parking on the edges of the zone – or at H&H ($2 with validation!) – when I go to Bar Sinister or the Burgundy Room.
By the way, the conductor on the trolley I took back to my car didn’t think that my tale of Why I Didn’t Have a Transfer was particularly valid, but let me get away with it anyways. So I’d advise everyone to make sure they GET a transfer. And be careful on those things in heels and overlong jeans. Thank you, Eric Garcetti, for making Hollywood just a bit easier to get around in.