Dollar Sale

Alex, Jessie, and I decided to go to the dollar sale on Sunday where, unfortunately, I had an encounter with a woman. For the readers who are vaguely familiar with, or unfamiliar with, the dollar sale, every timeless, from your grandmother's attic, washed too many times, distinct dusty old trunk with a hint of urine smelling item of clothing sells for one dollar. Furthermore, these sought after relics from the past are strewn across the warm, smooth, and ebony parcel of asphalt otherwise known as The Jet Rag Parking Lot. Now, to entice the reader even further, there are "magical clothes" worthy of being cubed up in plastic wrap and sustaining straps. When unwrapped their unique properties embolden people to become savage animals, ripping, tearing, scratching, and pushing to grab I-love-you-this-much armfuls of their enchanters. I was heading towards these entrancing clothes when I ever so slightly nudged a woman. God help you if you nudge a woman who is under the spell of these bewitching garments for she will try to confront you in an awkward, half joking half hostile way. This confrontation will leave you at first slightly confused, then at the very least irked that you didn't counter her attack because you didn't know that it was, in fact, an attack.
Later, we went to a nice vintage store on Melrose and then got something to eat at Canter's. The last two photos are from 2nd street and after MoLAA's Murals Under the Stars, respectively.