When Ugly Americans Visit LA

Not only do I live in LA, I live in HOLLYWOOD, which is of course tourist central. I'm lucky--I get to meet a cross-section of really cool people from all over the world. I love to hear their stories about travels to other lands and the people they met. Fortunately, most of the people I meet are in this category BUT...an "ugly American" encounter leaves one with such an overwhelming sense of ickiness (thanks Cher from Clueless) that it's easy to forget about the nice ones, at least for a while.

I was on the subway earlier and saw a family filing in. An Ugly American (yes, I'm going to capitalize ugly for the rest of the blog) family is easy to spot. They reek of entitlement. In this case, they actually reeked. Follow me here: stale milk, warm lunch meat, *FDS, constipation and "not so fresh" *FDS=female deodorant for "down there." These families always have a strong resemblance with a dollop of mongoloid. 

They sneered at the subway car, looking it and its riders up and down as if they'd just arrived in a pig sty. I watched them weigh their options. Their thought bubbles said sitting down on those seats next to THOSE people would be icky--but they're also too lazy to stand so sitting won. One sat down next to me, gave me a horrified look and then slid as far over as she could. Was I going to rob her? Was it the few garlic cloves I threw in my kale earlier? Was she afraid of catching fag from me? They huddled, yet spoke loud enough for anyone in the greater Los Angeles area to hear them. They had typical Ugly American complaints about LA: the buildings, the people, not enough of this, too much of that, the weather isn't ____ enough; a litany of bitches, whines and complaints. As they were launching into how stupid Angelenos are and how there aren't any acceptable institutions of higher learning...one of their greatest fears was making his way through the car, selling candy...in SPANISH. "The Messucuns! Messucuns!" Yes, this happens all the time. I'm sure the guy selling M&M's as well as the 20 other "Mexicans" (UA generic term for all Latinos in LA) heard them. The Ugly Americans don't realize most brown-skinned people speak English. People visit a city that's 60% Latino and they're surprised they encounter a Mexican speaking Spanish. Approaching my stop at Hollywood and Highland, I stood and summoned my best Bea Arthur baritone "pardon me." Mrs Ugly American with her unintentional lesbian haircut curled up like I was going to punch her or something. Did she suddenly realize there had been a witness to their tirade, which probably streams constantly through their waking hours? I doubt it. She was just afraid I might brush against her. Or mug her and take all her Ugly American money. At the end, the obviously gay teenage son made a declaration, reiterating his dislike for LA but announcing "I want to go to school in Than Franthithco." (Say it out loud if you don't get it.) A hush fell over the whole Ugly family. For a long 15 seconds they were silent, the only peaceful moment in that subway car. As I stepped off the train, being free of their energy was like taking off a 50 pound pack full of garbage but I still felt like I needed a shower to wash off their bad energy.

Juicy Burger is one of my favorite spots to watch tourists and the regular Hollywood freaks who are my neighbors. My boyfriend and I play a fun game. The seating frames the area immediately in front of the business--in other words you can't see who is coming until they are almost in front of you. "The next person just robbed a bank." The variety of people who walk Hollywood Boulevard makes this a game you can easily play for an hour if you don't watch it. It's fun trying on various scenarios with total strangers. "Porn star" sometimes brings hilarious results. The funny part is, most of it is plausible.

This spot is also a magnet for rednecks. Probably the burgers and proximity to the Rusty Mullet. Eavesdropping on rednecks brings a different flavor. True, the Ugly American family could have been rednecks but they weren't. One cute thing people from places that aren't subtropical do when they visit LA for the first time: "Palm tree! Look, there's a palm tree!" Rednecks think they are surrounded by homosexuals, even when guys totally aren't. "Look, there's another one. Yep, that one's a fag too." There's a special "I just saw a fag" smirk rednecks get. Some are into palm tree spotting, others fag spotting. And they're right, they ARE surrounded by homos.

Watching tourists (Ugly and normal ones that don't know any better alike) spot hookers is hilarious. First of all, many women in Hollywood dress like hookers but are just normal tramps. When they do spot a real hooker and get confirmation from someone who knows--JACKPOT. "A hooker! Look! She's a hooker! Omigawd, a hooker! Did you see...omigawd, she's a prostitute! Is she really a prostitute? A prostitute!" Said hooker usually won't say anything. Unlike the alleged homosexuals, she knows she's a hooker. What the tourists probably don't know is that she's a man.

My wish is that when they go home they'll tell all their brethren how dreadful LA is. And those Messicans. Careful, your son or daughter might run off with one, they can be charming. But they'll be back. I heard them whining about how dreadful all their previous visits were. Sometimes I want to speak up and say "do you think we're deaf? Would you like me to go to your town and do what you're doing now?" I know it would be wasted, so I re frame it as entertainment.

Where do I meet nice tourists? Starbucks. I have 5 within walking distance and for whatever reason, the quality tourists linger there. Remember: Juicy Burger for rednecks, Starbucks for nice tourists.

Bonus: When visiting Los Angeles, please refrain from using your high school Spanish on Latinos. It's embarrassing.