Ties and Chickens

I took Pauly shopping for a tie on Friday afternoon. He just got a job covering the European Poker Tour Grand Final in Monte Carlo and will have to don a charcoal gray suit from his Wall Street days on several occasions over the course of his stay. He promised me that he had some decent white shirts at home (I'm not quite convinced) but that he didn't have a great pool of ties to choose from.

Look, it doesn't take a whole lot of convincing to get me to go to a mall. He, on the other hand looked like he was on the way to the proctologist's rather than the Macy's mens' department.

We parked the car at 3:55 P.M. and were heading up the escalator into the mall by 4.

"Where are we anyway?" he asked.

"Don't you know?"

"I only know that in L.A. there's the Grove... and not the Grove."

"We're in Century City. Dude, we've seen like 4 movies here." I spat as we pushed through the door to Macy's.

Just as the tie tables entered his sightline, Pauly exclaimed "Oh look, I see a tie. Let's buy it."

"You don't want to look around?"

He gave me a withering look.

"We're gonna look around."

We fundamentally disagreed on tie styling. He preferred dark and striped while I was drawn to light and shiny to contrast the dark gray of the suit jacket. After checking out the DKNY, Calvin Klein and Donald J. Trump Signature Collection tables, he pulled a green Perry Ellis tie out of the pile. It didn't offend me on first glance so I nodded my head in approval. Pauly booked it to the cash register.

We were back in the car by 4:15. I mean seriously, how can you guys make clothing purchases that rapidly? I don't think I've seen Pauly break the 20-minute mark inside a store yet.

We took Olympic Blvd. home and traffic was already a bitch. Sitting in gridlock only three blocks from one's apartment is a serious test of patience. When I finally inched up enough to take my first right off the road, I did and decided to snake around the side streets to get home.

As I pulled up to a stop sign, Pauly pointed straight ahead and asked "uh, is that a chicken?"

Indeed it was a chicken. Picking at the grass in front of a duplex in Beverly Hills. I pulled over so fast I hit the curb. And took these photos, in honor of The Rooster.

Chicken next to telephone pole

Chicken takes one look at my car and says "as if!"

Chicken fleeing across street