Beverly Boulevard, the chameleon street with elegant furniture stores and restaurants on one end and Vietnamese shops selling mysterious packaged roots on the other. In fifteen miles, like a Monopoly game in reverse, this street dwindles in property value and ends at her second-story apartment in Silverlake, an artists’ community that is always bordering on being dangerous but never quite succeeding.
He grew up in the slacker-based L.A. high school milieu, where aspiration languishes and the lucky ones get kickstarted in their first year of college by an enthused and charismatic professor.
she cannot conceive of any way their Laundromat encounter, or any encounter involving the thumbs-up sign, can be considered a date.
In Beverly Hills, young men, searching for young women who remind them of their face-lifted mothers, are stranded and forlorn in a sea of natural-looking twenty-five- year-olds.