la la land || jodie

two

the honk of an obnoxious car horn distracts dodie from her thelonious monk cd.

a battered convertible swerves into the lane beside of her, barely avoiding her car.

"you should probably get going," he tells her with a scowl, his tone bitter.

she very briefly gives him a middle finger before he speeds past her.

dodie rolls her eyes, pressing the gas pedal and steering out of the heavy traffic, merging onto a more free-flowing freeway.

she stops at a little breakfast spot, a retro sign hanging over it that reads "rayo's cafe." the employee recognizes her, nodding familiarly and handing her a steaming cup of coffee.

dodie goes to sit outside. she gazes across the street in disgust.

a new club had just opened up- a jazz samba bar. it was rather frustrating, she thought. you could have one or the other, but not both.

she watches as a car pulls up beside the building. two people hop out, their arms greatly occupied with carrying amps and a few other things. she catches a quick glimpse of what was inside- and the door slams shut.

-

dodie enters her apartment. it's a one bedroom ordeal in the valley in a shady neighborhood- not to mention a huge mess inside as well. she still has unpacked boxes sitting in the floors and picture frames she hasn't put on the walls yet.

she has to jostle with the handle to open it and then jostle with it again to lock it back.

she moseys over to her record player and pops a monk vinyl on it.

her apartment is any jazz pianist's dream. there's an old steinway grand piano, and posters on the walls- coltrane, armstrong, and a photo of wilshire boulevard in the 50's.

she glances to the kitchen and grabs something to eat before retreating back to the grand piano. dodie plays one key, then another, slow and careful, gradually increasing to a 100% speed rendition of monk's solo, playing perfectly along to the vinyl with virtuoso precision.

dodie reaches one passage- and suddenly stops. she gets up and moves the needle back a few bars and starts again.

her finger slips and executes an incorrect note.

dissatisfied, she groans and stops again. moving the needle back a second time, she replays the passage and gets it right this time.

no one could tell the difference.

but to her, it's crucial.

-

dodie makes her way to work.

she catches a glimpse of fireworks exploding in the sky before her as she drives. what's a night in los angeles without a crazy party and fireworks?

she parks across the street and gathers her things, crossing and stepping into the restaurant.

it's a dan tana's knockoff bar-and-restaurant. every table is candlelit and the fake italian decor is enough to make you nauseous.