Day 87: I almost ate a car.

We’ve been in Los Angeles for  3 hours. Nearly a third of that has been spent on foot lost in the Beverly Center parking garage.

We got to our house too early to “check  in” meaning “the cleaning people were still there.” We are only 1/10th of a mile from this gigantic mall so we figured we’d go have lunch. The Beverly Center is not a regular mall, it’s more like a gigantic parking garage surrounded by some shops with thousand dollar t-shirts. The valet area is the nicest part of the mall. It’s CARPETED. A carpeted valet. For a minute I thought we were actually in a Rolls Royce store inside the mall. Im already beginning to suspect that people care more about their cars here than other people. That’s probably true in most places though.

There we were in the parking garage – our own personal 45 minutes of purgatory – arguing over  the mall map and asking random people, “Where’s the California Pizza Kitchen?” Normally when sane humans are on a nice vacation, they ask strangers things like,  “Could you help me find St. Peters?” Or perhaps, “I would very much appreciate directions to the giant clock you call Big Ben?” Not us, we were tourists trapped in a giant car hotel searching for some pizza chain restaurant. Classy. I’m already feeling like the West Hollywood hillbillies.

I'm a contributing writer to Parents Magazine, GQ, Psychology Today and some others. My book, "This is Ridiculous. This is Amazing: Parenthood in 71 Lists" is available here Look for two more books in 2015: "Must. Push. Buttons (Bloomsbury Kids), and an as-of-yet untitled memoir I’ve appeared on Comedy Central’s “Live at Gotham” and “Nick Mom’s Night Out." I live in New Jersey with my wife and two sons and enjoy making them laugh more than anyone else.

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