It turns out that Aventine, the little complex that the hotel anchors, is Prime Singles Territory. The lobby was like nonstop miniskirts and clouds of Old Spice. Add the halogen light fixtures, pinpoint lighting illuminating the palm trees, and its a world in which “Miami Vice” is Weltanschauung.
Or if it were Metropolis, valets would be the workers. Someone whose sense of the La Jolla economy came from this little corner of heaven would conclude that parking cars is a major part of the area service economy– there seems to be one valet parking dude for every hotel guest. Which reminds me I should check under my bed just in case.
Not in Kansas any more.
The apartment complexes really do seem to be endless. They’re like what Communist worker housing would have been in a country that got it right.