They say that LA can be described as 19 suburbs in search of a city. And tonight, sitting in one just two blocks from Hollywood boulevard, I imagine that the 19 or so people at the bar are in search of something no less imaginary.

Whereas other bars have looked upon my spectacle wearing, coffee sipping, notebook scribbling self with some suspicion, in Hollywood I’m just another writer, and looking around I wonder if I’ll ever see these people in the movies or on television.

Tonight, I highly doubt it. Statistically speaking the odds are very slim. Perhaps only one of the 19 at the bar will find what they’re looking for – fame, fortune, a fan-base. But for the 18 others, like suburbs in search of a city, those dreams will remain undiscovered. Here, like nowhere else, the stars light the pavements and not the sky. “Are you a writer?” the barman asks. And since everybody else here is acting, I nod. “Welcome to Hollywood.”

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