You'd think after living in Los Angeles for ten years I'd be used to this by now. You'd think that I'd become inured to the constant annoyance, and my teeth wouldn't be put on edge. You'd think that I would have already cracked this code, and I have before, but I apparently took a backslide and fell victim to it yet again. What is this, you ask?
It's the local phenomenon known as... Los Angeles Flakiness.
For the most part, people in this town will completely flake on plans. Completely. Or be way late. They won't think twice about being late and they won't think at all about calling ahead. You can usually tell someone is not from Los Angeles because they actually do call ahead. They actually take the 7.4 seconds to text you and tell you they are running late. The bulk of Angelenos, however, couldn't be bothered to stay to plans that have been already made or even commit one way or the other.
As I recently stated, I just had my birthday last week and to celebrate this blessed event, I had a birthday party. Now, I sent out an Evite three weeks before the party, which is pretty late for Los Angelenos. Usually to get anyone in Los Angeles on board for an event where they won't (A) meet celebrities, (B) get free shit or (C) get free shit from celebrities, you need to try to book people waaaaay in advance. I sent the Evite to 54 people. By the time the party started on Saturday, 16 had confirmed "Yes", 12 were in the "Maybe" column, 4 said "No", and of course, 22 hadn't committed one way or the other. Of those 22, only 6 of them even bothered to read the Evite at all. When I stop to think about that, it really makes my blood boil a bit. Seriously, you can't click on a link from your e-mail sent to you by your charming (and dashing) friend and/or co-worker? Really? Of those who said "Yes" or "Maybe", we had about 12 people in total at the party, minus Tom and I. So, between the 28 people who even halfway committed to the event, 16 of them completely... oh, what's the term for it... oh yeah, FLAKED.
This flakiness, this general disregard to the thoughts and plans of others was the largest culture shock Tom and I had when we moved to L.A. back in 1999. We were just kinda shocked that people would be perfectly willing to say "Yes, I will be there" to doing something and then just not show up. Or show up way late with a "So what?" attitude. It took us a while to realize that a Yes is really a Maybe, a Maybe is really a No, and a No is from someone who's willing to take a risk. See, people don't want to say No to something because they want to have the option to refuse and not have to go back on their word. So, if they say "Sure, I'll be there", they can then cover their butts either way. If they like something, they'll go. If not, they can make up an excuse.
Now, let me stop a second here. I completely understand that things do come up and shit happens, and that has happened to me before. And, indeed, I've had to bow out from doing things because shit's come up... but I call or e-mail or text to let people know what's going on. And, indeed, some (awesome) people did that for my party as well. If they didn't before they party, they did afterwards. Or at least had the wherewithall to at least say "I'll do my best to get there, I have a lot on my plate" or something similar. To those solid friends, I give you all a pass. Trust me.
I also do think that some of the L.A. Flakiness stems from how the town is laid out. Back in Chicago, you can make impulsive plans with your friends pretty easily, due to the concentrated layout of the town and preponderance of public transportation. Exhibit A:
Chicago Friend A: Hey man, what are you doing right now?
Chicago Friend B: Not much. Finished dinner, thought about maybe watching some TV.
Chicago Friend A: I'm bored. You wanna grab a [beer/coffee] at [Local Bar/Bohemian Coffee shop]?
Chicago Friend B: Sure! See you there in 20 minutes.
Now, Los Angeles is a completely different matter altogether. The town is basically suburban sprawl for hundreds of square miles. With our extensive freeway system, you can get around town pretty quickly in off-rush hour times, which means (theoretically) you can live anywhere. The problem with that is your friends can and will live all over the city, instead of just one section of it (**cough** North Side of Chicago **cough**). When you work a long shift, then slap on a long commute on top of it, the last thing any of us want to do is go out again after coming home. So, plans aren't terribly spontaneous out here. Exhibit B:
Los Angeles Friend A: Hey man, what are you up to tonight?
Los Angeles Friend B: Not much. Just got in from being out on set. Haven't made dinner yet.
Los Angeles Friend A: Well, it's been forever, we totally need to hang out. When's good for you?
Los Angeles Friend B: [checking schedule]: I have some time two weeks from now on Wednesday around 3pm. How about coffee?
Los Angeles Friend A: [checking schedule]: I can squeeze you in then. Since you're in Santa Monica and I'm in Los Feliz, let's meet mid-Wilshire...
You get the idea. Because of all the driving we do in this town, we plan things around our driving times. And after a while, you get sick of sitting in your goddamn car. So, I can imagine that after working 60-some hours on some TVLand reality show, the last thing you want to do on a day off is drive across town to visit with a friend when all you want to do is sit at home and just unwind.
I get that. That doesn't mean you can't pick up your iPhone and send me a text, dammit.
Back to the party: yes, we had a small turnout, but it was quality over quantity. I had a fantastic time, grinning ear to ear as Tom and our friends as we kicked it out on Rock Band (where I sang James Brown's Sex Machine twice, thank you), having some delicious homemade cake (which was Buffy themed, complete with a marzipan stake) and just had a blast with my friends who were there.
I thought I had gotten used to the whole LA flaky thing but for some reason, I forgot. I won't make that same mistake again, that's for sure.
I also hate feeling like I have to 'sell' spending time with me. Fuck that noise. If I don't rate, I don't rate. Don't tell me I am special and then forget about me. Grrr.
Posted by: krystyn | April 28, 2009 at 12:08 AM