The land of self-absorption

I've been in L.A. for four days and there's a little something I forgot about in the almost year and a half since I've been here - that Los Angeles residents contain a huge personal space bubble.

Let's start with the obvious one - driving. Now, it's my observation that there is a common thread amongst drivers of Lexus(es), Lexus(i)(?) at any location in the United States. They are the most likely to cut in front of my lower class form of transportation sans signal and they do it at close range. Also at close range is the view of their grill. Note that I only say "grill" because the headlights are nonexistent as they are too close for me to see them.

This rule doubles in Los Angeles. Not only are they flippant, rude and shamelessly smug they are also clearly above any mode of transportation I happened to be sitting in at the time.

For example, today I was on my way to the beach to do my run in my little red rental car (high class all the way - I have to manually roll the windows up/down and push the lock down one door at a time). I've been looking forward to the beach probably since the last time I was here. As I was about to turn right onto Pacific Coast Highway (PCH for those "in the know") when a Lexus driver zooms up behind me and as the light turns green HONKS at me.

This is the part of driving during which my mother swears I'm going to get shot. With a cheerful wave and a smile, I make my right turn at about 1/2 mile per hour. ZOOOOOOMMMMM after the red light. Well, that will teach me.

Backing out of a parking space is worthy of a PlayStation game. Cars whiz around the corners (everybody, not just Lexi) and nearly pile on top of one another rather than let me out of a parking space that, hey, maybe they'd want to use. But that would require MANNERS and THINKING OUTSIDE THE BOX and letting me out.

People walk behind me as I'm trying to back out as if they are wearing neon pink and flashing lights. They just wander across, oblivious to the fact that those white reverse lights? They mean I'm moving backwards.

Oh, wait. They're on the phone.

I just don't have that many people to call. When I go to masters swimming in the mornings, which is located on a junior college campus, the entire student body (minus two people - me and a six-year-old being dropped off at the day care) are on the phone: the guy in the parking booth, the sheriff, the teachers, the guy (whoever he is) tooling around in the golf cart. "He's like, yeah, and she's like, yeah, okay and it was, like, so awesome." These people are obviously taking seats in the AP classes and are going to be our President and or heart surgeons ten years down the line.

That's enough extrapolation. More workout news tomorrow.