Is there anything that screams toxic-masculinity like a group of shirtless barbarians taking pictures outside Barry's Bootcamp? Or toxic-femininity like the YouTube girls giving us a play-by-play of "What I eat in a day"? Maybe not toxic but just annoying as fuck. (Side note I am not a dietician but I find it hard to believe that these very skinny 100lb girls are eating giant bagels for breakfast, bread-y sandwiches with fries for lunch, and pasta for dinner -these are my thoughts.)
My philosophy is selfish... watching you workout isn't going to make me have a nice body, and watching you eat isn't going to fill my stomach. So what is the point? -But I have to "go there" for the sake of this blog, so I have to talk about my “workout regimen” that nobody asked for to get to the point (I know I hate myself too)... [Insert cringe here:] I run every morning (you may not know because I don't document it on social media like the people I mentioned above). [I run] because it makes me feel better about myself, but mainly because WFH with an energized Sophie is my idea of a living hell, and very counterproductive. The most long-winded, round-about intro but...I need to vent about my experiences on these runs. Don't worry no tips, no tricks, just a long-form discussion on the division of class in Los Angeles. Without further ado...
[On said runs] I see it all at the butt crack of dawn in West Hollywood. Walks of shame, "houseless" defecation, and yet my least favorite interactions are with the wealthy white men and those cheugey fried-blond, pencil skirt (with the platform early 2000's patent leather Loubiton) wearing women on their way to their "important" jobs...
I run on the sidewalk and follow the stoplights (like a safe law abiding citizen should) yet every day I almost get hit by [these business people in] expensive Mercedes' pulling out of parking lots. Those batman looking BMW's turning right on red without looking. -And today a blacked out G-wagon who just decided they didn't want to stop at a stop sign. I never nearly-get-hit by Toyota Camrys, or KIA Sports (or any midlevel-priced vehicle for that matter)... but A "famous" YouTuber (and cringe-worthy ballerina Luna-Bologne-Face) in a brand new Tesla nearly made me road kill because she was talking to her camera while driving. -So you have money for an expensive car...that my life isn't as important as yours nor worth paying attention to? -And the looks they give ME... Like I was in their way; on my "right of way."
Like I said, I run on the sidewalk and the SAME RULES APPLY AS THE ROAD, stay in your fucking lane. I see so many sweaty, rosacea-faced, obese men in expensive suits walking to the office in the middle of the sidewalk... They literally watch me run towards them and don't move to a side. Yes, your annual salary probably has more digits than my social security number and yes, you are fat and take up more of the sidewalk, but it's an elitist move, not moving, for a peasant like me. I'm not much of a morning person so I have given plenty a gentle "Fucking Move" yell over my noise canceling headphones... (When I raise my voice, Sophie barks so we let those corporate fucks know we pay our taxes too.)
I'm all over the place with this so I hope I am making sense... but the point I am trying to make is the extreme division of class here in LA. There is an upper class. Where you are literally running me off the road in your Range Rover and live in a multi-million dollar house in the hills. Lower class. Spending most of your income on a very modest apartment in a safe neighborhood and have a running vehicle. Or poverty. Where you are literally on the street. -And the divisions are very visible (you are in your brand new sports car, or in my crusty 2011 Jeep, or you are waiting for the bus). In other places in the US there are class levels but they aren’t so drastic and not so trasparent. In New York there is the level playing field of the Metro system. All walks of life coexist simply through transportation. The intermingling of the different class divisions keep everyone modest. The subway doesn't care if you are a street musician or an investment baker... the [subway] doors close and don't wait for anyone! I don't have a resolution as to how we can change things in LA, except if you are rich, don't run over pedestrians and quit being a douche. Oh and maybe cool it with the shirtless Barry's photos, because it's really cringe to see.
Enough venting here is what I’ve been up to…
Brett Dreissig | @sektual