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About Los Angeles

But then—bam—she hops in, and I’m hit with this smell. Perfume and cigarettes, like a dive bar exploded. “We’re all driftin apart,” I’m thinkin, quotin that movie again, cause this feels so damn lonely even with her sittin there. I ask her name—Candy, she says, and I’m rollin my eyes. Candy? C’mon, that’s faker than a three-dollar bill! Gets me riled up—why lie bout somethin so small? But whatever, I’m in it now.

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The hidden gems here are off the charts – a cool little diner near Fox Chapel Country Club on Jefferson Ln. where the waitresses know you by name. Sometimes I forget about the fancy routine when a neighbor stops by on Lively Rd., and we just shoot the breeze, droplets of thoughts mixing with our everyday grind.

Herald notebook: Fox Chapel grad pitching out of Slippery Rock bullpen