One more L.A. moment

I forgot to report one more perfect L.A. moment from from trip.

It was 9:00 a.m. on Thursday morning, and I was walking along N. Highland Ave. just north of Franklin St. with some coffee on my way back to my hotel. Down the side walk the other way came a man with red hair wearing a purple suit and an agitated expression.

"Angela! Angela!" he cried in anguish, like Stanley Kowalski on meth. I became aware that he was hailing a woman on the other side of the busy four-lane boulevard, which was thick with morning traffic. "Angela! Why you wanna leave me??" he screamed.

At a momentary break in the traffic, he scuttled across the roadway and cornered a young black woman who looked none too happy about it. They conducted a conversation with many gesticulations, inaudable over the traffic. I didn't know whether to shout "Hey! Leave her alone!" or "Hey, you're wearing a purple suit!!"

After several minutes, they began walking down the hill together, the purple-suited guy obviously pleading his case with vigor.