Cambria and Cambria

Blog September 6, 2009

I am in Cambria, a beautiful seaside town. Tranquil, small, quaint. Everything LA is not. Nature is accessible and real. Not man-made or a façade. LA is trees and water brought in from somewhere else. Nothing is indigenous to the area but the Mexicans begging for work outside of Home Depot.
But here in this small, sleepy town of Cambria, I feel as if transported to some other REAL place. I am proud, yet sometimes ashamed, of my city girl core. I know that a small part of me yearns for this slow life. Last night, Dakota and I went to the happenin’ place in Cambria for some beers. The place had a saloon feel called Mozzi’s, pronounce “mosey.” We walk in and heads turn as we bee line it to the bathroom. The metropolitan side of my brain immediately sizes up the joint and its inhabitants. Scruffy looking men drinking domestic beer, wearing Carhart work pants and boots, dirt in their finger nails, emanating the smell of 100 ashtrays. Their skin is leathery and worn, evidence of outside manual labor. The women looked as if they were “rode hard and put away wet.” All between 30 and 45, they, too, looked weather beaten and dehydrated. They wore outfits that could be found in decades past and wore copious amounts of makeup. Everyone was WHITE, as in Caucasian. Not that I’m uncomfortable with that, but I felt they were uncomfortable with me being NOT white.
Dakota and I probably exuded the aura of “not bein’ from around these parts.” Our goal was to have a drink and be merry, maybe shake a tale feather or two. I’ll spare you all the details, but there wasn’t a man who didn’t try to talk to us. I think every older gent shot me a wink that I thought maybe for a second this town was afflicted with some eye disease. We survived a couple of bar brawls that made me have to seek refuge by standing on my booth and table to avoid the massive swaying of man bodies. I did get to shake my tale with a nice younger man.
As fate would have it, on our way home from the bar, we notice 2 of the young vying for our attentions earlier walking down a dark road (there is only one main drag in this Podunk town). Dakota and her charitable heart decide to stop and offer them a ride. Uh, oh, here come the adventures. One of the men had the biggest shiner on his left eye and the other was the man I danced with and kept having to avoid his advances of trying to kiss me that entire evening. Coincidentally, the home they are renting is just 4 blocks from where were staying….
Fast forward: We got home all safe and sound and went skinny dipping in the hot tub, which was magnificent at 2 in the morning.

Day 1 down on my weekend getaway....