Okay, quick story. I move to Santa Monica to work on a TV show. First week there, I need dinner. Bar named Rick's has a sign on the awning, $10 burger and beer, I think. Sold. I pull up. It's pouring rain. No change, and the parking meter won't take my Canadian credit card.
Rock n' roll woman behind the bar. I ask her if they give out parking tickets in Santa Monica in the rain. (Shut up, I was new.) Yes, she says. I explain my problem. SHE HANDS ME HER CREDIT CARD. I'm like, You don't know me. She holds out her hand. I put my wallet in it.
I go pay for parking with her card. Come back. She gives me back my wallet. The bartender's name is Kelly. Burger, beer, and a friendly conversation when I was feeling lonely and uncertain. Went back so often, I got the employee discount. One of my favourite places in the world.
Ha! Oh my God. I took @KVanValkenburg there for karaoke night. He was in town covering golf and dressed like a golfer. He got up and absolutely RIPPED "Nuthin' But a G Thang," I think it was. Brought the house down. Fuck me, I could weep, remembering. Pure shelter from the rain.
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