When I was single and a newbie to L.A., my friends and I loved to go out, party and meet new people. Now I'm an old lady who enjoys her Friday nights on the couch with Dateline. But the other day, I passed a sign that read 'Broadway Gymnastics' and it made me laugh out loud because I thought of the time that my friend Jeri and I got stranded in Playa Del Rey and got saved by that damn sign.
If I remember correctly, Jeri, Alicia and I all went out somewhere and Alicia drove home and left Jeri and I with our other friend in Playa Del Rey. At the time we were fine and figured we would take a cab or something...you know, one of those drunken decisions? So we stayed out late and ended up crashing at our friend's apartment. The next morning when we woke up (in the same clothes we wore the night before, makeup smeared and teeth not brushed mind you), we wanted to get the hell out of there immediately. We didn't want to wake up our friends and figured it wouldn't be that hard to hail a cab out on the street. So there we were- Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee looking like the walk of shame rejects out on the corner at 7:00 AM, trying to catch a cab. We tried calling Alicia to come pick us up but even after we bribed her with a delicious McDonald's breakfast, she said there was no way she was going to come get us idiots. Dammit! So we tried calling a cab but the cab company wouldn't come get us without an exact address. We tried telling him that we were outside of the 'So-and-So' apartment building but without an address, they couldn't help us. So we walked about a half a mile down the street until we spotted the first address we could see- 'Broadway Gymnastics'. We called the cab company back and told the dispatcher that we were in fact at 'Broadway Gymnastics' and they sent the cab to pick us up. The driver looked extremely confused when he picked up two girls dressed in going out clothes, reeking of booze and sitting in front of this random gymnastics center on a park bench but he didn't say a word and drove us home...
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