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Eight · L.A. Is The Place

Image of Alex (now) and her best friend Nicole in the Multimedia.

Monday, July 4th, 1988

Alexandria "Alex" Wright

"Cali, we here baby!" Nicole, my best friend of 15 months and counting, shouted as she stood up in the passenger seat of our rental convertible with her hands up in the air. Her curly hair was blowing with the crisp L.A. wind.

I giggled in excitement, driving to our first destination.

We had just touched down at LAX after a 39 hour flight only a few hours ago, from there we took a taxi down to one of the best rental car franchises in town, and rented a white '84 Volkswagen Rabbit Convertible. I had jet lag like a motherfucker, but it was Nicole's first time in L.A. and she wanted no one else tour guiding her except for me.

It had been two whole years since I've seen any parts of my hometown! If I had to say what I missed the most about this place, it'd have to be the weather and most importantly, my family. The weather back in Virginia was always unexpected. I only called my family when I wasn't wrapped up in school and work. Dre would always offer to fly me out for a visit, but I'd respectively decline. I wanted zero handouts, so on most holidays and breaks I'd spend time with Nicole and her family. Now that Nicole and I saved up to get back out here for the Summer, it was gonna be a total surprise 'cause no one knew.

I parallel parked in front of our first destination: Ruthless Records. I had never seen so many cars parked out on this street before.

"Alex, am I dreaming?" Nicole asked, gawking at the building.

"No, you're really sitting in front of the building I've been telling you about countless of times, without choice since we first met. Now c'mon before you get left out here looking like an N.W.A groupie." I rolled my eyes, climbing out the car with the keys in hand.

"Well, I am that and more." She said proudly, hopping out the car without opening the door.

"I should know. You've stolen all THREE of my N.W.A. and the Posse albums that I purchased." I grabbed my leather rucksack from the backseat as she grabbed her Canon camera, putting the strap around her neck.

"I can't help it if their lyrics are dope! Hey, hey! Remember this one?! I turned you on to the best females in the world!" She started off rapping Eazy's verse on "L.A. Is The Place."

"I wish they all could be California girls!" I chimed in on Ron-De-Vu's line.

"Like the east where you girls wear too many coats! Bring ya clothesie,"

"Runny noiseie,"

"With a sore throat!"

We both shared a laugh.

"On a serious note though, Nicole, don't embarrass me when we get up in here."

"I'm not!"

"That means: No screaming, no hyperventilating, no jumping on people, and no pictures unless agreed upon, understand? Act. Your. Age."

"OKAY! I UNDERSTAAAND-A! Can we please go inside now?"

"See, that's the shit I'm talkin' about."

"What?! What I do?!"

"The dragging-- Y'know what? Never mind. Let's just go inside, I'm burning up out here."

We both finally made it inside the building where the central air was still refreshing and the lobby wasn't so vacant anymore. People were actually keeping occupied by smoking cigarettes or reading magazines; like I use to.