Melrose Avenue is hip and upscale as it
passes through West Hollywood. Further east,
toward downtown, businesses tend toward pawnbrokers, bodegas, and Kentucky
Fried Chicken. At least that’s how I remembered it.
If you live long enough,
everything familiar vanishes, and I parked among a chic collection of freshly
painted boutiques, restaurants, and fashionable clothing shops. Plus a
beautiful new hotel that I’d never heard of.
It was the Hollywood
Historic Hotel, converted from a 1920s apartment a few years ago, I learned
from the desk clerk. He insisted that I was the first doctor that had appeared, and he seemed happy accept my card.
Even better, there was no
answer when I knocked. Since I’d come at the request of a travel insurer, I’d
be paid. I tell the insurer that if the guest wants to drive to my home, I’ll
take care of him at no charge. No one has taken me up on it.
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