December 27, 1997
Van Nuys(in the city of L.A.), California, USA

I’m now sitting on a stool, in a convenience store, in the middle of Los Angeles. It is 10:39pm. I have no place to go. I may sit here all night. I have no idea what is going to happen next. Here is how I got here:

Two days before Christmas, Bob asked me leave. "This just isn’t working out.", He told me. "You need to find someone else to help you with your site. I can email everything over to them." Two days earlier he was gung-ho and still very exited about the website. I was surprised by his announcement. After spending two and a half weeks preparing my materials, scanning prints and slides, making maps, and editing journals, I felt it would be crazy to start over again with a new web designer. I asked Bob to take me on as a client. "I will think about it.", he responded.

That night in bed, I tossed and turned for hours thinking about how I was going to generate funds to pay for the website. I came up with several ideas, but realized that I would not be able to make any money until the site was complete. This meant I would first need to make a substantial investment from my own pocket. I believe that if the website is well done, people will be motivated to support it. I decided to put my money where my mouth is, and the next morning, Christmas Eve, I offered Bob a down payment of $1000.00 to continue with the project. Two days later, which was yesterday, he agreed to continue designing and serving the web site, but his enthusiasm toward the project was still gone.

Last night while lying in bed, I decided that I needed to find someone else to take over the website. Bob doesn’t need the extra work my website will provide, and he already has enough on his mind trying to deal with his wife dying in hospital. This morning, I told him that I would leave tomorrow after making a few calls so to find a place to stay in LA. "Okay." he replied.

I asked him to promise that he would email all my website materials when I find a new web designer. He refused. I had out-stayed my welcome. We were no longer friends. My work over the last three weeks was far too valuable to be lost. I offered him $100. He took the money. My bag was packed. I was to leave by train as soon as possible.

Bob and his son were going to the movie theater in town. I got a lift with them. When we got out of the car down town, he said, "Walk straight down this street, and you’ll hit the train station." I walked several blocks down the street before realizing he had sent me in the totally wrong direction. After asking directions, I passed him and his son on my way to the train station. They looked straight through me.

While waiting for the train, I checked out a few surf shops, and made a couple calls to LA. I called Len, and Robert (a rock climber I met in Stoney Point), but neither of them were home. I knew there would be no one waiting for me when I got off the train, and that there was a possibility that I might have to sleep on the street.

I love traveling by train. I always meet cool people. This ride was no exception. I met two university students from Florida - Jason, and his girl friend, Dana. We didn’t stop talking for most of the two hour ride. We talked about photography, university, and making epic movies.

Immediately after getting off the train at Van Nuys, I called Len, and Robert from a pay phone, but got answering machines both times. The train station was closed. I was alone with a destination unknown.

A short time later, I found myself peering through a glass door into a Protestant Mexican worship service from the side walk of a quiet main street. Before starting this journey, I had been advised that churches are always a safe place to find shelter if I was without. I considered entering, but then decided against it. My Spanish is limited.

I continued down the sidewalk in a north easterly direction towards Len’s house. I wasn’t considering walking all the way to his house, I was just walking in that direction. There was no point in walking farther from his house. I was wearing my wide brimmed hat, camera bag, and back pack. Many cars passed with tinted windows. There was no one else on the sidewalk. It was obvious I didn’t belong there. It felt like every car that drove past was preying on me.

I ducked into a convenience store, and called Len. Once again, I got an answering machine. I left the phone number of the convenience store on Len’s machine, so he could call me if he arrived home. It was only 9:30pm. I figured he may have been out to the movies, and remained optimistic.

I explained my situation to the man behind the cash register, then asked, "Do you mind if I stick around until I get a call back from my friend?".
"Yeah... it’s okay." he nodded. "Would you like a cup of coffee... or soda?"
"Some juice would be good..." I replied.
"Go for it..." he offered.

I sat on a stool in the corner of the store, with my laptop on my lap, and began typing. Customers gave me strange looks. Nine out of ten people who entered the store were Mexican. Even the white folks spoke Spanish when they were making their purchases. It felt like I was already in Mexico.

Unsure if Len would be arriving home at all, I called a homeless shelter. Preceding my explanation, the care-taker advised me, "Listen man... I’m telling you... brother to brother - do yourself a favor, and get a hotel room! I’ve been around here a long time. This is not a safe place to hang-out! You don’t want to be on the streets either..."

At the strike of two, I decided to move. My butt was sore from sitting on the stool, and I was too tired to continue typing. The store clerk’s shift was finished. I asked him to take me home and let me sleep on his couch. He called his parents but got no answer. "It isn’t my house man. I can’t let you in." he told me.
"Do you have any suggestions?" I asked. "Are there any all-night donut shops around?"
"Yeah... about a mile that way." he pointed. "Go three blocks this way... then four blocks that way. It will be on the right."

I walked in the shadows. The windows of all the houses had bars across them. The donut shop was open, but the dining area was closed. I spoke to the man at the drive-through widow. I asked him if he was the owner. He said that he was. When he realized I was not there to buy donuts, he turned his back to me and carried on flipping donuts in the fryer.

A well dressed black man pulled up in a nice car and placed an order. "Excuse me sir..." I asked him. "Do you know of any stores in the area that are open 24 hours." "What kind of store?" he questioned.
"It doesn’t matter...", I shrugged, "I just need to get off the street."
"I’d love to help you... but I’m not familiar with this neighborhood either." he replied.
"Do have a couch?" I asked.
"Sorry..." he said with grin, "My brother is on the couch... but if you want you can sleep with me?"
I laughed. "Do you have any other suggestions?"
"I can drive you to a hotel." he answered.
I stepped towards his car. "Take me to the cheapest hotel you know of..."

Leaving the parking lot Dwanye turned to me. "You’re cute... Watch out, or I just might attack you."
I leaned toward the door. "Why would you want to do that!?!"
"I just had a bad blind date," he giggled. "I’m only kidding!"

I got out at the Motel 6. "With taxes it will cost close to $40 bucks." said the lady on the other side of the half-inch thick bullet-proof glass. I couldn’t justify it. $40 is the same as two weeks worth of food. "I just need a place to sit until morning. Do you have any ideas?" I asked. She stared back at me with sympathetic eyes. "On the next block there’s a Tommy’s Burger that is open all night. That’s all I can think of..."

Tommy’s Burger looked like a McDonald’s - with the exception of the four security guards. I assumed they were there to break up fights and to discourage robberies. I didn’t figure they were there to hassle me. I was wrong.

After dropping my back pack and camera bag in a corner booth at the very back of the restaurant, I got in line to order. I didn’t want anything to eat. I just knew it would look suspicious if I didn’t have food on my table. After a minute in line, I stepped out to check on my gear. It was still there as I had left it. The four security guards were sitting together facing in the direction of where I placed my bags. "Would you gentlemen mind keeping an eye on my things?" I requested.
"We are not here to look after your things!" one of the guards shot back. "What are you here for?" asked another.
"I’m gett’n some grub... What else?"

An hour later, my chili fries were cold and there was no one left to chat with. I laid my head down on the table beside my half empty plate of fries. Two minutes later a security guard approached me. "With the authority of this establishment... I’m asking you to leave." "I’m not causing trouble. I will go when I’m finished." He looked at me sharply. "You’ve had more than enough time. You will leave now!" There was no debate.

I walked back to the Motel 6. "Any other ideas...?" I asked the lady behind the bullet-proof glass. "Coco’s restaurant opens at 6am." she answered; "That’s just on the other side of the parking lot." I looked at my watch. It was almost 4am.

I began looking for a place to lay down for two hours. All I wanted was some place protected from the wind and out of sight. An eight foot high brick wall and a ten foot high steel fence divided the Motel 6 from an apartment complex parking lot. Between the wall and the fence was a five foot wide strip of grass. The grass sloped toward the brick wall forming a ditch. Just as I started to clean out the garbage to make a spot for myself, I noticed a mattress laying in the parking lot a few feet away. It was clean and in good condition. It seemed like a gift from God. The mattress was just thin enough that I would be able to pull it though the bars of the fence. I stuck my arms through, but the mattress laid just two inches beyond my reach. The fence was difficult and dangerous to climb. It was just a row of vertical rods with sharp points on top. At the time it seemed well worth the risk.

I laid the mattress in the ditch, then rapped it around myself. I couldn’t sleep; I was too cold. I wasn’t having fun, but I had a smile on my face. I found the situation hilarious. Underneath my head was five thousand dollars worth of equipment and a credit card, and yet, I had just spent the night walking the streets of Los Angeles like a bum. It was a character building experience. "It’s going to make a great story..." I kept telling myself. I regretted nothing.

I woke up shivering at 6am. I felt sick to my stomach. I had slept for less than half an hour. I walked into Coco’s, and sat in a booth. "What would you like to order sir?" asked the waiter. I smiled back. "A hot chocolate will be fine for now, thanks." I pulled out my laptop and started typing.

A couple in their early sixties sat down in the booth next to me. They were wearing their Sunday best, and it was obvious they were on the way to church. I listened in on their conversation. They seemed to be nice folks. I stepped out of the booth, and approached the couple. "Excuse me..." I said politely, "It appears that you are on your way to church. Would you mind if I joined you?" They looked back at me with an expression which read, "More explanation is needed."

"I paddled down here on the ocean from Vancouver, then I had to take the train back to Santa Barbara to work on my website. When I came back here to LA last night, my friends weren’t home, so I had to spend the night out side. I have not been to church in five months, so I figured I’m due."
"What are you going to do after church?" questioned the man.
"I’m not sure..." I answered. "I’ll figure it out when the time comes." He crossed his arms. "What is your friend’s name?"
"Len Goodman." I replied. I could see distrust forming in his eyes.
"What street does he live on?" "Texhoma Avenue I think. Don’t you believe me? For Pete’s sake!" I erupted. "I’m asking you to take me to church. Is my story so incredible that you do not believe what I’m saying to be true?"
"Go call your friend!" he smartly retorted. I walked to the pay phone shaking my head. The couple were gone when I came back.

Len picked me up at Coco’s an hour later. "MAX... You have an unpleasant odor." Len informed me. "Ya smell like street people!"
"There’s a good reason for that!", I exclaimed; then proceeded to recount the events of the previous 24 hours.

When we arrived back at Len’s place, I called my friend Riley, and arranged for him to pick me up on Hollywood Boulevard later that afternoon. Following a shower and a clean set of clothes, I rode a bus to Hollywood.