It was an hour before the LACMA was closing its doors and I was rushing to pay a quick visit to the Hammer building, when a girl jumped out of a sideway door, screaming “War and Peace!”. She dragged me in, so I could get a glimpse of the Tolstoy-adapted masterpiece that was playing on the auditorium screen. After the name exchange and some intro talk, she and her friend asked me to discover the museum with them, and because I had nothing planned for the evening, I agreed. Something was up with this girl though. Her level of dopamine was a little (if not totally) through the roof, but for the time being I decided to go along with it. What followed became one of the craziest, most eventful days in L.A. I’ve had so far.

Minutes later I was striking my best pose for the camera, running around a field of street lanterns, and dancing around in a sound box, contrived as contemporary art. All of a sudden, every museum piece got more interesting and we sure made ourselves rememberable to all the guards.

For dinner we decided on left-over Persian food at her place, where two over-excited dogs kept jumping up my leg (they probably got the energy from her and not the other way around). She was house-sitting for a friend who had skipped town without leaving a date-of-return note, and was feeling out L.A. for the time-being. After a tour around the building (pool and hot tub incorporated), we drove to Silverlake to check out some of the more laidback, hipster bars there.

Everywhere we went, we got to know new people, which of course is not hard with a hyper-social chick by your side. She even started genuine conversation with someone on the street while asking for directions. Sometimes we just had to pull her away. After Carolyn left to catch her plane to Mexico, Nora and I got lost on our way back to L.A. A detour through Pasadena and Glendale made us drive by the El Rey Theatre where Tea Leaf Green was performing. We chated with one of the security people, got in for free, stood in front of the stage among old hippies and rockers, until we got in the mood for food, went to the IHOP (International House of Pancakes) and ended the night defending L.A. to three French guys. It was one of those wild days you only have abroad when you’re completely commited to new experiences and are in the company of some extraordinary people.