It's late. Round Midnight. It's raining. Driving through downtown LA. Nothing to write home about. These mean streets have seen better days. Haven't we all. Homeless. Broken glass. A bus crosses the horizon like a film noir ghost ship passing in the night.
Some down and out dude is cadaver-sleeping on a frozen bus bench, waiting on the Metro 94. Waiting on the gravy train that ain't coming.
I'm working late. Again. Another low budget epic. The budget is tight. Tighter than a fish's ass. I'm a background actor, hanging on with faith, hope and my need-a-manicure fingernails, waiting on some speaking lines. Waiting on my Oscar. My needs: trophy wife, beach frontage in Malibu, simple stuff really.
The rain is worse now. Midnight in LA, ain't no Paris, Hilton.