Mr Ramen 002

Once again, I had all intentions on attempting to visit Langer’s Deli, yet again.

I joined my friends Barnacle and Whale for a morning Yoga session in Silverlake. I struggled through much of it, and my stomach kept lurching each time I caught a glance at my grime-covered yoga mat. I believe it was once green in color.

We walked to the farmers market, tasted some jams and began our descent into downtown.

It was a beautiful day in LA. The snow-covered mountains were quite visible for a change.

But so was the line out the door to Langers.

Uh..next!

After much deliberation, we drove to Little Tokyo and ate at Mr. Ramen.

We texted a LT expert who advised us NOT to eat there.

Too late. We were seated and we ordered several rounds of Gyoza.

mr ramen gyoz

I had the spicy beef curry soup. SO GOOD!

The yoga had obviously ramped up my appetite, so I drank every last oily drop.

That evening a strange, short man who lives in my apt. complex asked for me to help move his broken down, 1004 pound Television set into his spare bedroom.

This man lives in a horror movie memorabilia convention.

Besides the obligatory life-size coffin and enormous guillotine, he has the original “Mother” corpse from the movie “Psycho”.

psycho-mother

I had begun to worry I would not ever leave this place.

When I noticed the door to the spare bedroom was closed, I asked if we could open it as to make the transition smoother.

He paused.

“Uh..well..the cats are in there.”

Red Flag Alert!

I was obviously a dead man.

My limbs were as sure as gone. Resting comfortably in a frozen, compact climate.

MomandKidsbytheFridge

When I eventually convinced the man of the need to eventually open the freaking door, he conceded and the strong scent of kitty litter wafted past me, as strong as that of my yoga mat!

The TV was so damn heavy we ended up dragging it across the carpet to the bedroom.

I looked around, knowing I would be spending my remaining living days in that room, cats gnawing at my cheeks. Both sets.

Luckily, I was wrong and was permitted to leave.

I still sleep with one eye open.

341 E 1st St
Los Angeles, CA 90012
(213) 626-4252