Nothing quite says Van Nuys like biking home from the gym on a Saturday afternoon and getting squeezed up on to the sidewalk by a monster truck on an ass recon mission. After cutting me off, he couldn’t wait to lower the window for these two. They directed him to drive around the block and meet them on Bassett St. Despite their charms they apparently failed to transact because two minutes later I saw him talking to a third hooker up on Vose. Two minutes after that, I saw him making a u-turn on Raymer to collect a fourth. She passed muster, climbed into the cab, and off they sped.
What was the determining factor, I wonder. Price? Acts? Looks?
Sepulveda Blvd, the Farmer’s Market of flesh. Come sample the wares! At 2PM, it’s a wide-open town up here. A cantaloupe or an ass-cheek, it’s all the same to the City of Los Angeles.