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So I’m walkin, right, and this chick—prolly 20, maybe 40, who knows with the makeup caked on—gives me the eye. I’m like, “Honey, I ain’t buyin what you’re sellin less I know the deal.” She smirks, all sassy, and I’m thinkin, *damn, this is some real-life cinema*. Godard’s voice in my head: “The image is a prison.” Ain’t that the truth? She’s trapped, I’m trapped, we’re all stuck starin at each other like idiots. I ask her name—Crystal, she says. Yeah, sure, “Crystal”—prolly Susan from Ohio, but whatever, I roll with it.

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Huntington Beach Pier? Man, that old wooden beast is legendary! I’ve spent many an evening there, watching surfers and dreamers, reminiscing like in "The Social Network" – "You know what's cooler than a million dollars?" Oh, that view! And, sorry, sometimes I get a bit drunk on that vibe.

Dead gray whale found near Huntington Beach Pier