LA: Sea Of Crazy

“LA is driving me crazy”,  I say.

“Crazy good? Crazy bad? Crazy other?" he replies.

“Just all the crazies,”  I say, and I know he knows what I mean.

He suggests brunch/coffee/whatever and the Monday morning fog lifts. It's good to have friends in this crazy city.

I’m currently dodging phone calls from a man whose name I’ve forgotton. I haven't saved his number and he's been sending me emoji based text messages and leaving voicemails I don't listen to. This morning I answer the phone, only because I'm expecting a call from another unknown number,

"Hell, this is Cat speaking," I say.

There's a short pause and then,

“How come you look so sweet, but talk so tough?” he says.

I'm caught off guard, tripping over my own defenses into the sea of crazy, floundering for a reply. Am I lacking articulacy or self awareness? Both?

"I can't hear you," is my cowards reply as I hold the phone away from my face to catch some ambient noise before I hang up and quickly save his number as Do Not Answer.

He rings straight back and I put my phone into my handbag, letting it vibrate against my collection of notebooks and pens.

I don't need a stranger forcing me to face own dichotomies today.

I need coffee and brunch and a friend who keeps me from disappearing in the fog.