I walked into a bookstore on Grand in downtown LA that I had passed before on the bus a few times. Immediately I pulled up my camera to take a shot of the interior, as it was seemingly out of place in post-modern Downtown. Unfortunately, I had run out of space to take any more pictures. I had another card, but was a little embarrassed, as it had seemed that I'd already taken a photo. So I decided to forego the picture and just take a mental snapshot. I walked in and sort of skimmed over various old and worn books. Someone, who was most likely the owner of the store, crept around a stand with a broom and asked me if I needed any help. I asked him if he could recommend any good books. He looked at me with a crooked face and asked me what it was I thought they did there. I was embarrassed again and said that I thought that maybe they sold books. He told me that it was a very keen observation and went on to ask whether I had just graduated college or something without bothering to answer my initial question. I said that's it's been quite some time since I've been in college. He just nodded. He asked me what I was interested in and I said I'd been reading a lot of Salinger lately, which led him to tell me that he was very popular, but they didn't carry him there. So I asked him again what he would recommend. He asked me if I liked Faulkner and I almost shrieked with excitement as I told him that I'd heard a bit about him lately. He picked up an old faded book called Sanctuary and handed it to me. I said thank you and told him I loved the store, it was beautiful - partly to justify trying to take a photo and partly to let him know that his store was, in fact, beautiful, just in case he didn't know. He just laughed and said to wait until he finished sweeping. I told him that it was beautiful with dust or not. I purchased the book and he suggested I go to the hotel up the street where they have elevators that protrude from the building if I'd like to get some nice photos. I thanked him and felt embarrassed again as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror; a scruffy young kid in a beautiful distinguished bookstore.

I spent most of the day downtown. Taking photos and observing people. I went to the Museum of Contemporary Arts and sort of wished a certain someone was there with me. I felt very small and very hot. Downtown is a big place in small area. The streets are overshadowed, literally, by the high rise buildings lining them. People and cars are all over the place...

Reading "For Esme - With Love and Squalor" on the way home, I had to sit on a bench after I got off the bus so I could finish the story. I almost cried as I read Esmes letter. Were I home, I would have... but the heat from the sun beating down on the bench only caused my throat to bubble and my eyes to blur... and left me sitting, sort of darting my eyes around to see who had seen my bottom lip quiver... But, I came to the conclusion that it didn't matter, stuck the book back in my bag and walked the block or so distance home. Hello.

I'm jacob and I'll be goddamned if I wasn't born cheesy.