Los Angeles: A West Hollywood Pad

Lily takes us to The Hall, a French restaurant in West Hollywood.

Gene has a poached-egg caviar appetizer and Lily and I both have a layered salmon-potato thing. Lily and I think along the same lines—we both select the black cod on fava beans for our main course. Gene orders the Kansas steak (from Kansas, France?). Lily gives Gene’s steak high praise: it is better than the steaks served where she works, she says.

Lily takes us to see her apartment, new since we last visited LA. She lives next door to Paramount Studios. Cool.

Her building gate opens into a courtyard with a fountain. Since she lives on the first floor, Lily can feel like the courtyard belongs to her. Lily’s cat Tiggy looks out onto the courtyard, stretches his arms on the screen and gets his paw stuck. He does this several times.

A dramatic Indonesian four-post daybed filled with brown, plush pillows dominates her living room. An orange lamp curves behind it. Her coffee table is so large she practices yoga on it.

The rest of Lily’s apartment is just as dramatic as the living room. Built in 1923, the ceiling meets the walls with curves rather than 90 degree angles. Her bathroom holds a separate shower stall and a deep tub with a sloped back. Sea-green tiles go up two-thirds of the wall and a gold-framed mirror hangs above the tub.

Lily has large mirrors all over the apartment, one hangs over the fireplace, and several tall, heavy ones with thick dark frames are propped against walls. The place feels like lush 1930s. If it were seventy years ago, Lily could be packing for a weekend as a guest at the Hearst castle (after leaving work at Paramount!).

Heading back to the hotel, we stop at a grocery store to pick up some bottled water for the room. Los Angeles tap water tastes yucky and I am accustomed to the good-tasting New York City tap water. Our tap water may taste good, but New York City grocery stores are tiny and filthy. I love visiting real grocery stores—anywhere. Walking up and down the wide aisles, I am always overwhelmed by the number of choices. The wine aisle distracts us from our water mission and we buy a couple bottles of vino.

Lily circles and circles, looking for a parking spot; it takes almost a half hour to find a bank lot where she pays eight dollars. It is about six blocks from the hotel. Nothing like jumping out of a cab and letting it drive off.

The three of us hang out in our room, drinking wine, looking at photos and watching videos on You Tube.