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LA - The Quiet American

It's all good here in LA; Raz picked me up as planned and has been showing me all around. Last night we went to Garden of Eden, a posh Hollywood club. Ohmygod, girls girls girls! A traveling Buddhist pseudo-monk (me) + dance club = trouble... I just cruised around the place drinking my glass of water, not (consciously) sending out any specific vibe, keeping my internal awareness strong, observing all the craziness around me, Vipassana-style.

They just appear out of the blue, in your face! Staring right into your eyes with a big smile, or a not-so-coincidental touch on the dance floor. Then I hear some line or another about the club scene that night, or the music, or how I look or whatever. "Don't believe a word they tell you," Raz says. "Far out, mate, bizarre!" I kept telling myself. After a few minutes of utterly meaningless conversation, some would say that had to go to the bathroom and I'd never see them again (hah!). Others kept reappearing time after time, with this friend or that friend in tow, more dancing, more physical contact, quite intimate at times. Now I know what a fish out of water must feel like... Bizarre indeed.